Saviors
by RockOfAges
Summary: On a dark night, a lone traveler, whilst being pursued by men with ill intent, stumbles into Castlevania. It's lord comes to her aid, but who really saved who? AlucardxReader.
1. Chapter 1

I haven't published on this site since 2005, but this idea creeped into my head and I just had to share it. I've never done a characterxreader style story before, but I thought it lent itself well to the kind of story I wanted to tell. I hope you enjoy it, and I'll hopefully get the next chapter out shortly.

I neither own Castlevania nor its characters.

—

You stumble in, disheveled and panicked, tripping over your own two feet, wide eyes searching the darkness for the savior who let you in.

It was an encounter too close for comfort, three lecherous men whose lack of morals dictated that they each be allowed a turn with you. You were only just trying to get home, the journey from the convent had taken longer than you had originally planned for, and as the darkness settled over the road you knew this would only end poorly.

As you passed the tavern that marked the end of the town you were passing through, you picked up your pace, not only in the hopes of quickening your journey through the uninhabited forest that lay between you and your hometown, but also in the hopes of going unnoticed by any tavern patrons. Your plan had been unsuccessful, and now here you were, stumbling into a darkened castle after being relentlessly pursued through the woods by those lecherous perverts.

"I a-apologize for intr—uding," you gasp as you get ahold of yourself, "but I'm being p-pursued by three gentlemen of ill intent, and I was hoping I c-could perhaps wait here a moment until they leave." Your plea is met with silence.

Your eyes roam the darkness some more, and you notice that the towering wooden double doors you entered through are now shut. Such large doors, at least 20 feet tall and wrought from thick oak, should not have closed without a sound, let alone without assistance. How could this be? Your eyes finally begin to adjust, allowing you to take in your immediate surroundings. You stood in the front of a tremendous room, one whose ceiling reached so high you couldn't make out where it ended, and whose walls were adorned with gorgeous tapestries at least 30 feet in height and of varying widths. In front of these tapestries, flanking both walls to your left and right, was an endless row of unlit candelabras. In front of you sat a grand stone staircase, whose two stairwells cascaded down its left and right sides, and whose center bore a portrait of a noble family. The portrait was at least 10 feet high, and depicted the figures of a proud husband, his beautiful wife, and their angelic son. You're taken aback by its beauty, and decide to venture closer. Cautiously, you make your way toward the staircase, toward the portrait, stepping lightly on the rich red rug beneath you.

*WHAM WHAM WHAM* You nearly jump out of your skin, whirling around to face the front doors that someone has just hammered their fist on. From behind the door you hear a muffled voice yell, "Thought you could get away, did ya? We saw you! Now come out before we drag ya out!"

You begin to back up, petrified, your mouth agape and your left hand slowly rising to cover it, hoping to stop the scream that's threatening to escape. What should you do? Could they get in if they wanted to? Where is the master of this castle? What if all of this disturbance drives the castle's master to throw you out? Then what will you do? In your panic you don't notice that you are no longer alone in this grand entryway. A pair of golden eyes peer at you from the top of the darkened stairway, assessing you and your predicament.

Without a sound the golden eyed figure descends the staircase, coming to stand two feet behind you, "step ba—" but before the figure can finish, you've spun around and lashed your right arm out in front of you, in a feeble attempt at self defense. You strike the figure square in their chest with a thump. The figure stares at you, mouth agape, golden eyes wide, switching between your face and the fist you have planted on their chest. You quickly retract your arm in horror, grasping it to your chest with your left hand, the look on your own face mirroring that of the one on golden eyes'.

"Oh gosh!" You exclaim, "I'm so sorry! I thought one of those terrible men had found a way in and had snuck up behind me! I didn't mean to strike you!" Golden eyes seems to process your confession, and his face softens. Smirking, he replies, "Well then it's a good thing I'm not one of those men, because that strike wouldn't have done much in the way of stopping me."

You feel the blood rise to your cheeks, embarrassment and frustration mingling, "well what would you have me do, then? Lay down and let them take me? I won't be conquered without a fight, not as I live and breathe!" His eyebrows raise, his smirk widens, and he bows, a fluid motion that sends his hair cascading over his face, "then allow me to fight this battle for you. It seems your army could use some assistance." With that he picks his face up to stare directly into your eyes, the smirk replaced with an honest smile. Your blush grows deeper, and you sheepishly bow your own head in gratitude, "thank you. I greatly appreciate this act of kindness." He stands once more to his full height, and proceeds towards the doors.

Almost as if by magic, the towering doors slowly slide open as he approaches them, causing the pounding fists and shouting to momentarily cease. The figure disappears through the doors and out of sight. You're rooted in place, curious to see the exchange taking place, but terrified of seeing those men again, or rather of them seeing you, so you stay put. You listen intently, but you hear nothing, not a whisper. Five long minutes pass, and finally the figure re-enters, the doors slide shut behind him, and he proceeds to walk back towards you, his face unreadable in the darkness from this distance. "I implore you to spend the night," his raspy alto carries through the dark, "This castle has many rooms, you can have your pick of them. It's not safe out there, I'd much rather you continue your journey in the daylight."

You're surprised into silence, contemplating the offer you've just been made. This stranger has just offered you a room for the night. Is this wise? Is it any more wise to go back out into the night after the ordeal you've just been through? But what if he's worse than what's waiting for me outside? You decide that your odds against one man are better than your odds against three, but before you can answer, your stomach grumbles loudly. Embarrassed, your hands fly to cover your stomach. From the darkness you hear a faint snickering, which slowly grows into a raucous laughter. As your host comes into view, you see he's holding his own stomach in an effort to control his hysterical fit, "I suppose that settles it then!" He gets himself under control and offers you his arm, "come, I'll show you to your room." Sheepishly you take his arm, attempting to glance up at him as he continues, "After you've freshened up it would be my pleasure to serve you dinner. Would you like something to change into? It seems you must've taken a tumble while on your journey here." At this you glance down at yourself. He's right, your forest green wool cloak is completely covered in mud that has almost dried. The bottom of your navy blue dress, which comes out just below the cloak, is equally as caked in mud. Your brown leather boots are now completely gray. In your flight from the leches you did stumble and fall a few times, after all it isn't easy to run blindly through a pitch black forest. I guess the rain earlier that day hadn't fully dried by nightfall. "That would be very much appreciated, thank you," you manage to say, although you're still feeling quite flustered from the whole ordeal. After you've traversed what seems like the third endless hallway, your host finally stops at a door, and swinging it open, reveals a bedroom so ornate it was better suited for royalty. You gasp, taking in the beauty. He leads you inside, and your eyes can't stop roaming every inch of it. It's completely lit up with golden candelabras, the first room you've been in since entering this castle that wasn't practically pitch black. The candle light causes the golden candelabras, along with the golden four post bed planted in the center of the room, to glisten. The room is decorated in red and black velvets with golden accents, the bed is draped in red velvet curtains, parted to reveal red bedding and pillows as well. On the right side of the room is another door, on the left wall is a large golden wardrobe along side a golden dressing table and a golden vanity.

You don't notice your host amusedly admiring you while your head whips to and fro, taking it all in, "Will this suffice?" He steps back from you, releasing your arm, causing you to rest your wandering eyes on him, and suddenly you realize you're now able to see him clearly. He's gorgeous. Long golden hair, holding the slightest wave, rests below his chest. He's tall, at least 6'7", and lean, but broad shouldered. His skin looks like it's made of porcelain, his patrician nose, high cheek bones and slender face portray the masque of an angel. He's wearing a white shirt and tight black pants under a long black coat adorned with golden accents. His golden eyes are boring holes into you, he's waiting for an answer, so you collect yourself enough to give one. "More than sufficient, it's magnificent!" You manage to squeak. He smiles, "good. That door to the right is the washroom, feel free to use it. A clean dress will be waiting for you on the bed. I'll come back to get you when you've finished." With that he bowed, and proceeded to the golden wardrobe, opening it, and eyeing the dresses inside. You take that as your cue to exit, and scurry over to the washroom.

You shut the door behind you, taking a moment to lean against it as you take in the room. A porcelain claw foot tub sits adjacent a porcelain vanity. The walls are the same blood red as those in the adjoining bedroom, and the floor is white tile. A golden candelabra mounted above the vanity's mirror is what illuminates the room, and you approach it, taking in your sight in the mirror. You're a wreck. Your hair is disheveled, your clothes muddy, your face streaked with dirt and sweat. You quickly undress, letting everything pile on the ground, and you turn on the tub's faucet. You soaked for what seemed like forever, but not for too long, because more than anything you wanted to see your host again. Once you were finished, drying off with a luxurious black towel, you appraised yourself in the mirror once more. Much better this time. You braid your wet hair, sweeping it back from your face. Wrapping the towel around yourself, you cautiously open the door, peeking into the bedroom. Your host was gone, but just as he had said, a dress waited for you on the bed. It was red velvet, just like everything else in the room, with long fitted sleeves that tapered to triangular points on the backs of your hands, and an a-line hem that practically reached the floor. The boat-cut neckline was trimmed in black, as was the lacing that cinched it together in the back. The dress fits you like a glove, but you struggle a bit with cinching the back laces.

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door, "My surprise guest, are you ready for dinner?" You stutter a bit, "u-uh yes! I just.. I could use a hand, if you don't mind?" The door slowly opens and your host steps in, his face amused. He takes in the sight of you, you're holding onto the two laces, pulling them over your shoulders as almost mock suspenders. He appraises the situation and approaches you. "If it isn't too much trouble, would you mind tying these for me?" You shyly ask. He chuckles lightly before stepping behind you and taking the laces from your hands, "of course, m'lady." A moment later the laces are tied and you move to face each other. "Thank you," you say earnestly. "You look beautiful," he replies, his golden eyes drinking you in, "certainly better than you did when you first broke in." Your flattered flush quickly becomes outrage as he proceeds to laugh at you. Indignant, you reply, "I didn't break in, the door opened for me! And I don't normally go around looking like a-a mud ball! I was chased through the woods in the pitch black darkness! It wasn't easy to navigate, so of course I fell a few times!" You cross your arms over your chest, ready to continue, but he stops you, "You're very fun to tease. But for now, let us go enjoy a meal, I suspect it's the hunger making you extra volatile." With that you gasp and swing at him, attempting to swat his arm, but he just laughs and dodges, before he offers you his arm. You swat a second time, this time landing it, before taking the offered arm with a huff. He holds in a final laugh before leading you from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews and favorites, it certainly doesn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. I think I know where I'm going with this story, although I'm not quite sure where it ends yet.

I neither own Castlevania nor it's characters.

—

This time, as you're lead from your temporary bedroom to the dining room, you notice that everything is alight. Every candle in every corner has been lit, and the once dark castle is now glowing. You try as hard as you can to take it all in. Every wall is covered in something ornate, every piece of furniture is far from plain, this castle is clearly the dwelling of nobility, perhaps even royalty. Who exactly is your impromptu host? Before you can ask, you've confronted two large wooden doors, similar in style to the ones you originally entered through, but half the size. They slowly swing open to reveal a grand dining hall. You're once again left speechless, gaping at the expansive room, towering stained glass windows line the wall furthest from you, the adjacent wall furnished in tapestries. In the center of the room sat a mahogany table as long as an oak is tall, whose far end was piled with platters of various delicacies. Two high backed chairs, one at the table's head and the other to the head's right, awaited you and your host. You're graciously escorted to the seat on the right, your host pulls the chair out for you, and you do your best to smoothly take your seat. Your host takes his seat beside you, and raises his glass of wine, "to unexpected guests," he toasts, you mimic his gesture, smiling.

"This is unbelievable, everything looks delicious, I don't know where to begin!" You say to him happily, while your eyes hungrily roam over your options. He smiles in response, "eat as much as you want, I hope it's all to your liking." As if it wouldn't be, this is a feast fit for a queen! You happily serve out the different dishes to both of you, and after the hunger pains begin to subside, you decide it's about time you started asking some questions. "If I may ask, you've been such a gracious host to me, but I don't even know your name," you say, sheepishly peering up at him in between bites. He smiles, "I thought you would never ask. My name is Adrian Farenheit Ţepeş. I am the lord and master of this castle, and I don't get many visitors. So what of you, my surprise guest? What is your name? Where do you come from?"

What a beautiful name, you think to yourself, before replying with your own, along with your hometown. He nods in acknowledgment, "so my dear, now that we're formally acquainted I hope you don't mind me asking, but what were you doing out this evening?" Matter of factly you respond, "I was on my way home from the convent," you sigh, "but I guess I left later than I thought." This response causes his brow to wrinkle, "you're a nun?" "No!" You quickly respond, waving your hands in front of you, "I'm no nun, I'm a teacher. I was studying with the nuns in order to better educate the children of my village. My headmistress often sends me on these journeys to visit various convents and abbeys in order to study with their inhabitants."

A strange look comes over his face, you can't quite place it, until quietly he asks, "so you're a scholar? An academic?" You're not sure how to respond to that, "I suppose you could call me that," you blush, "I just call myself a teacher." He's staring so deeply into your eyes you're afraid he can hear your thoughts, the golden orbs turning an almost orange hue, before a grin forms on his face. "Wonderful," he practically whispers, before continuing a little more loudly, "I have something splendid to show you then. Have you had your fill?" You nod in agreement and he stands, pulling out your chair for you and then offering you his arm. You take it, and he leads you out of the dining room, down a corridor, and into what could only be described as a dream. "This was my father's study, which he shared with my mother. They both had a passion for academia, which they instilled in me, and since their passings I have taken on this study as my own. There are numerous books, contraptions, medical implements, anything one could want," he steps away from you, gesturing with a flourish at what lay before you. You take it all in, wide-eyed, mouth agape, no convent or abbey you've ever been to held tools quite like these. "This is incredible," you manage to squeak, "the amount that could be learned here... it would surpass all of my previous pilgrimages combined!"

"So pilgrimage here," he says quietly, looking at you with broken eyes. He catches your look of concern for him at the sorrow you just caught and this time speaks with more confidence, "It would be my pleasure to have you as my student. And to be quite honest, the castle could sorely use some life breathed into it again."

You contemplate for a moment. Would Headmistress Christina be alright with this arrangement? He is a handsome young nobleman after all, you know she won't agree to this without putting her two cents in first. She appreciates your thirst for knowledge, but she is still a Bride of Christ, she wouldn't want you to do anything... unseemly. You decide to be honest with him, "I would be honored to be your student, but we'd have to discuss this arrangement with my Headmistress first." "Alright," he responds, smiling, "I'll accompany you home tomorrow then. After we arrive you can introduce me to your headmistress so I can discuss the terms of our arrangement with her. Once she agrees we can begin our lessons post haste." Gaping, you're both thrilled and confused. He takes the moment to tease you once again, "Unless of course you don't think you'll be able to keep up with my tutelage. I know how difficult the sciences can be." With a huff, you cross your arms over your chest and glare at him, "I am more than capable of not only keeping up, but of surpassing you! I've dedicated my life to the pursuit of knowledge for goodness sake!" This causes him to snicker as he extends his arm to you once more, "come now my fierce little kitten, let me take you to bed. It seems we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow." You growl, but you take his arm, and he leads you back to your temporary bedroom.

When you reach the door, he opens it for you before releasing your arm. Then, stepping away from you, he bows deeply, down on one knee, taking your left hand with him. He peers up at you in between the golden curtains of his hair, and you watch him plant a delicate kiss on the back of your hand, "until tomorrow, pleasant dreams." Blushing, you manage a half curtsy and stutter out, "you as well," before he relinquishes your hand and stands to his full height once more, the ghost of a soft smile on his face.

In a haze, you stumble into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. You carefully remove the dress and crawl into bed, mind swimming with images of those golden eyes peering so intently at you.


	3. Chapter 3

I'll admit, I found it rather difficult to give the "reader" character an ambiguous backstory, image, personality, etc. I also have no idea how Adrian should address the reader, because I'm a huge fan of using people's names, but I obviously can't use one for the reader, and I don't think they're at the level of using pet names yet. This has quickly become "Problem Solving: A Castlevania Fanfiction" lol. Regardless of my struggles, I hope you enjoy.

I neither own Castlevania nor it's characters.

When you awake the next morning, you're startled to notice just how late you've slept in. You guess the prior night's events must've really taken their toll on you. You slowly remove yourself from the luxurious bedding, the fabric gently caressing your bare skin, and rise, stretching languorously. You make your way over to the room's sole window and peer out, resting your palms on the sill. The view is incredible, the picturesque countryside appears almost as if it's a painting. You become so lost in admiration that you don't hear the bedroom door open.

Adrian freezes, the morning greeting he was about to deliver lost as the sight before him takes his breath away. Your feminine frame bathed in light, your hair cascading around you, he swears you must be an angel sent to save his soul.

Quickly, before you notice, he quietly shuts the door. For a moment he stands there, contemplating the scene he just bore witness to, and wondering why it is that he suddenly feels so... different. Last night he was giggling like a child, teasing you like a schoolboy, when was the last time he laughed? Hell, when was the last time he even smiled? It feels as if it's been ages. Ages since all of the tragedy, since his mother's murder and his father's descent into madness, since the genocide. How long has it even been since those events transpired? His thoughts are halted at the sound of something he hadn't heard since he was young. Through the door, a soft melody, the tune is unfamiliar, but the voice is unmistakable.

Inside, as you wash your face, brush your hair, prepare for the day's journey, your excitement is uncontainable. The prospect of everything that lies ahead of you, of studying with Adrian, of introducing him to those most important to you, of journeying with him after having taken so many journeys alone, you don't even realize at first that you've begun to sing. It's a hymn you'd heard the nuns sing on many occasions, an "Ode to Joy" they had called it, and at this moment it felt appropriate. You go to retrieve your soiled clothes from the place you had left them on the bathroom floor, only to realize they were gone. Instead, they now sat clean and folded on the dressing table, your boots scrubbed clean and placed on the floor beneath. You're taken aback for a moment, but decide to brush it off. This is a castle after all, of course it has servants. You quickly dress, and give yourself one last look in the mirror, finishing your song. As if on cue, there's a knock at the door, "Good morning, may I come in?"

In lieu of answering, you open the door, greeting Adrian with a smile, "Good morning, Lord Tepes!" At your address, his eyebrows raise, "My, aren't we chipper this morning! Did you sleep well?"

"Like a lamb," you reply dreamily, "that was perhaps the best sleep I've had in years!" Earnestly he smiles at you, "I am pleased to hear it. After all, you'll be spending many more nights here once you begin your studies."

You feel your face flush, even though he hasn't said anything suggestive, you're just being lewd, get ahold of yourself! "Yes," you squeak, so you try again, clearing your throat, "yes, I look forward to studying under you." You wince, did that sound as dirty as you think it did? He seems to sense your turmoil. Smirking, he replies, "you might find it difficult to study under me, but I'm sure we can arrange a position that pleases you best." You think your face must match the shade of the walls at this point, so you decide it best to just shut your mouth and look away. You hear him chuckle lightly before the rustle of fabric alerts you that he has offered you his arm. "Come, let us set forth," he says, the ghost of a smirk still lingering. Sheepishly you reach out to take it, still keeping your gaze averted.

He leads you to the castle's entrance, where a cloak and pack rests by the door. Gracefully he drapes the cloak over his shoulders, fastens it, and lifts the pack, swinging it over his shoulder, "I thought it would be wise to bring some supplies, it's been a long time since I last traveled but I imagine this should make us adequately prepared."

You nod in agreement, finally meeting his eyes. His golden orbs are dancing with excitement, your eyes widen in response, and you can't help but smile, your own excitement finally overcoming your earlier embarrassment. There's a warm feeling in your chest, born from the knowledge that your new found companion is just as excited as you are to take this journey together. A man, a very beautiful man, excited by the prospect of sharing his time and knowledge with you... a prospect you had thought impossible. You had all but resigned yourself to a life without a family of your own. Your desire for knowledge and frequent traveling had made you quite undesirable to the men in your town who were only looking for homemakers. But then you met Adrian... you shake your head, scolding yourself for having such bold thoughts about a man you had only just met, a man who had volunteered to be your tutor, not your suitor.

"Do you know the way, or would you like me to lead?" You ask, trying to take your mind off of your previous thoughts.

"I am familiar, yes," he replies as he begins to exit the castle, "so we can navigate in tandem. Perhaps you are privy to routes I don't know of." You nod and follow him.

It was a beautiful day, perfect for traveling and the first hour passed in relative silence while you both admired your surroundings, until your curiosity got the better of you. "Lord Tepes?" you ask tentatively, he acknowledges you with his eyes, "why did you propose to tutor me?"

His eyebrows raise, but quickly he guards his expression, "I already told you my reason, silly girl." "Not exactly," you reply, "you heard my current circumstances, and then proposed your offer. But you barely know me, what if I'm some kind of, I don't know, psychopath?" you finish by crossing your eyes and sticking out your tongue, trying to garner a laugh.

 _It is not I who has anything to fear…_ Adrian ruminates.

He chuckles at your antics and his expression softens, "you remind me of my mother." You perk up, eager to learn more about your new tutor, "was she a teacher as well?" "Not quite," a slight smile forms on his lips, "but I suppose in a sense she was, for my father and I. She was a doctor." You don't quite understand the significance of his teacher remark, but you quickly dismiss it, "a doctor? That's incredible! What a difficult profession, in many facets." "Many facets, indeed…" he replies, seemingly becoming lost to his thoughts.

You worry at his distance, have you pried too much? Maybe you should volunteer some information of your own before you ask so much of him, "I'm honored to be compared to such an amazing woman, thank you. I truly appreciate this offer you've made me, I've spent quite a few years traveling now, and while I'm obviously eager to expand my knowledge, as you've seen for yourself my method of acquiring it doesn't come without its price."

He meets your eyes then, your divulgence seeming to bring him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him, "Tell me more, how long have you been a teacher?" You contemplate for a moment, "Seven years. Three back home, and four here."

He nods his head, "I had a feeling you might not be from here. Where is home?" You reveal your country of origin, and he reacts with surprise, "that is a long way from here. What brought you to Romania?" "My church was looking for teachers who were willing to travel. I volunteered. The rest is history," you end with a shrug of your shoulders, but he isn't buying it. "There is more to this story," he narrows his eyes at you, "Already keeping secrets from your tutor? Tsk, tsk, what a naughty girl, I had no idea I had agreed to tutor a delinquent."

You gasp, cheeks burning, "I'm not a delinquent!" Your outburst is exactly the reaction he was hoping for it seems, because he begins to chuckle. You realize you've once again walked right into his teasing, and clam up with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I only jest," he speaks soothingly, the mirth lingering, "in all seriousness, don't fret over my reaction to your truths. I will not judge you, I merely wish to understand you."

You stare into the depths of his golden eyes and witness the earnesty with which he speaks. "I agree," you venture tentatively, "I agree with your sentiment. It is not my place to judge, only to understand."

He regards your words carefully, "I believe in the honesty of your conviction." _But can you even fathom the depth of some truths? Your convictions are honest, but are they iron clad?_ Adrian wrestled with his thoughts, but his face betrayed nothing.

"I did have a reason," you say quietly, eyes trained on the ground. Maybe this is what you have to do if you want him to open up, trust is a two-way street after all, "I was engaged to be married. My soon to be husband was a teacher. I caught him sleeping with one of his students." You can't look up, you can't look at him, but you know he's looking at you, you feel him stiffening beside you. You continue, "I called off the engagement. When a colleague told me about what our church was offering, it seemed like fortuitous timing. I was rather upset over the events, so rather than stay where I was, surrounded by reminders, I decided to leave. Maybe it was God's way of telling me I needed to take my talents elsewhere, that I was needed by others elsewhere, that's how I try to justify it at least. When I told my parents of my plans, you should've seen their faces. Being their only child, they were not ready to give me up, God's plan be damned, so they came with me. Actually, you'll get to meet them when we arrive, and to be honest, I'm excited to introduce you to them. They're good people, I begged them not to come, not to uproot their lives for me, but they refused. They hate it when I take these pilgrimages, they worry for my safety, so I think they're going to love the offer you've made. With any luck Headmistress Christina will too," you finish with a hopeful smile, and finally attempt to meet his eyes.

Adrian's gaze caused you to stumble, his expression was a mixture of anger and sorrow. Quickly you lowered your eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lay my burdens on you." You notice that his clenched fists are bleeding, he seems to notice what your attention has been drawn to and relaxes his hands. You never noticed how long his nails are. That manicure style must be an old noble tradition.

"Please," he says, wiping his hand on his pant leg while coming to stand in front of you, lifting your chin to meet his gaze, "do not apologize, you've done nothing wrong. Rather, I am the one who must apologize for what my callous curiosity has resulted in. In my pursuit to reveal more about you, I've forced you to retell a past trauma." You're stunned into silence by his words, your eyebrows raised and your mouth slightly open, ready to protest. He has nothing to apologize for, not after showing you more kindness in a day than most of the people you've ever met.

You gently shake your head, "Please don't apologize, you've done nothing to warrant it. That all happened a long time ago, it doesn't hurt me anymore. I told you because I want to be more transparent with you. You were right, about what you said earlier, that if we're going to do this then we need to be honest with each other. I have nothing to hide from you, I humbly bear my soul to you, and I hope, in kind, you will feel comfortable doing the same with me, Lord Tepes."

 _You have no idea what you ask of me. You could not fathom my truths, and it would be utter cruelty to burden you with my soul. My honesty could earn your fear and your hate rather than your understanding, but…_ his hand still lightly cupping your chin, his golden eyes gazing into yours, he takes your hand with his free one and raises it to his lips. _There is something about you, something that fascinates and excites me, something that makes me want to keep you close… something that has me convinced you are worth the risk._ He gently presses a kiss to your fingers, coaxing a blush from your cheeks.

He smiles at your reaction to his gesture, slowly releasing your hand, "I think our arrangement is going to be most fortuitous for us both."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I'm starting to throw in some references to locations and a time period. I know I've kept a lot of things ambiguous up until now, and while I plan to continue that with the reader character, I'd like to paint a more specific picture for the setting.

I own neither Castlevania nor it's characters.

You blushed deeply at his profession, as well as at his delicate gesture. The way he gently took your hand, all while still cupping your chin, and kissed it with the softness of a butterfly's wing, was truly breathtaking. You didn't know what you had done to become the recipient of such an act, but you most certainly were not complaining. Staring up into those beautiful golden eyes that stared so deeply back, being held so gently by those cold, smooth hands, standing so closely to that tall, strong, broad-shouldered frame, you drank in the sight before you and without realizing it a sigh escaped your lips.

 _She sighed at my touch… what an intoxicating sound… I must hear it again…_ Adrian thought, fully enraptured by you.

Realizing what sound you've just produced, you gasp and immediately flush in embarrassment, covering your mouth with your free hand.

As usual, your flustered state incites a chuckle from him, "I'm honored to know I'm able to bring you such comfort, but alas, we have a journey to complete, so we will have to resume this at a later time. Come now, my sumptuous student." With that he released your chin with a caress, and tucked your hand into the crook of his arm.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, doing your best to get control of yourself. He continues to lead you, keeping your hand firmly in place on his arm, his close proximity is making it difficult for you to maintain the control you're attempting to garner though. You need a distraction, so you decide to bring up a topic that brings you to your comfort zone: academia.

"Lord Tepes?" you ask tentatively, he looks at you, "after seeing your incredible library, study and laboratory I must ask, what's your focus of study?"

He appears thoughtful for a moment, "I'm not sure I have a particular focus. I've tried to keep myself well-rounded, focusing more on the pursuit of knowledge itself rather than on one area in particular."

You think for a moment, there has to be something he prefers, "Then perhaps I should rework my question, what is your favorite thing to study? What brings you the most joy?"

Again, thoughtful, "Fencing, I enjoy the discipline of the sword."

Smiling sheepishly you peer up at him, "Fencing? How interesting. I've never even held a sword, much less fenced. Is it difficult?"

Eyebrows raised, he meets your gaze, "You've never held a sword and yet you travel the countryside unescorted, it's no small wonder trouble didn't find you sooner. Would you like to learn?"

Excitedly you agree, and the rest of your journey is spent eagerly discussing what lessons and topics your new tutor feels you need.

Before long, your hometown comes into view, and suddenly your stomach is in a complete know, "Let's visit my parents first, I'm arriving later than they anticipated and I'm sure they're worried." Adrian nods in acknowledgement, "lead the way."

Together you approach the modest home, it's small and rather plain, a cream color with green accents and a tented roof, but it feels welcoming. It sits fully detached, surrounded by a well manicured and fenced in lawn. You give a swift knock on the door before opening it, stepping into the sitting room.

"I'm home!" you call, and not a moment later both of your parents appear to greet you, smiling at and yet eyeing your companion.

This seems as good a time as any to introduce him, "I'd like you to meet Lord Adrian Farenheits Tepes, I ran into a bit of trouble on my way home yesterday, but luckily for me he helped me, he even took me in and served me dinner, I owe him a huge debt."

Their eyes widen and suddenly they're smothering the two of you, you with concern and him with thanks. Gripping Adrian's hands in her own, your mother pleads, "We can't thank you enough for what you've done, we always worry about something bad happening, but she refuses to listen!"

"It's not like I have a choice," you attempt to defend yourself, "Headmaster Christina has chosen me, and if I want to keep my job then off I go! Besides, who else can she really send? I'm one of the youngest, and definitely one of the most worldly. But all of that aside, there's actually something Lord Tepes and I would like to speak with her about."

Adrian took this as his cue to speak up, "Yes, you see, I come from a very scholarly background, my castle is brimming with the tools of learning, and I'd like to propose that rather than traveling the countryside in pursuit of knowledge, your daughter could instead study with me. My castle is only about a four hour walk from here, and I would gladly escort her here and back to ensure her safety." Once he finished talking, your parents all but mauled him once more, crying thanks and pleading relief.

"But," your mother began, concerned, "how could we ever repay you for all of this kindness? We are far from being rich people, but there has to be something we can do for you in return."

Adrian looked stunned, "I do not make this offer in the hopes of being reimbursed, my 'repayment' is being granted the opportunity to pursue knowledge alongside your daughter. There is no greater payment you could give me."

His words touched you deeply, you couldn't believe how highly this heartbreakingly handsome scholarly nobleman was talking about you: a plain, unexciting, middle-class school teacher. What had you don't to earn such admiration from the likes of him? You stumbled into his home uninvited, attracting unsavory characters in your pursuit, begged him for assistance that put him in danger, ate his food, wore his clothes, and then slept in one of his beds. You've done nothing but be a burden, and yet here he was, treating you like **you're** the one who saved him. But as guilty as it makes you feel to accept this unearned kindness, you're unable to say no to him. You look into those warm, golden eyes and all you can think about is how much you want to be close to him, how safe it must feel to be wrapped in those arms, how soft those lips must… STOP! Stop it! You're getting carried away again!

Throughout the duration of your inner monologue, Adrian and your parents spoke about his plans for you.

"Now that that's settled," Adrian beckoned for you, "we should be on our way to meet with your headmistress. I'm sure our meeting will be pleasant and brief, but I know it leaves you anxious."

You welcome the distraction from your thoughts and bid your parents farewell for the time being, Adrian promising your mother that yes, he will stay for dinner. You lead Adrian through your town, explaining the sights along the way, pointing out your favorite places, occasionally greeting a familiar passerby. It wasn't long before you arrived at your school, a rather large stone building that sat attached to a convent and cathedral.

"Headmistress is probably in the garden," you tell Adrian, leading him through the front gates, he nods in acknowledgement. Sure enough, you were correct. There she sat, on her knees, hunched over a former cabbage patch.

You gulp, wringing your hands together, "Headmistress Christina? I have returned from my latest pilgrimage, and I bring a guest." As you finish, the older woman looks over her shoulder at you, then begins to rise, "Welcome back. How did thee fair on thy travels?"

She's now standing fully erect, facing you head on.

"I faired well, the sisters of Agapia send their regards. My only hitch came during my trip home, but thankfully I was saved by this man," you finish, gesturing to Adrian. Adrian bows, "My name is Adrian Farenheits Tepes, I've heard much about you and am honored to make your acquaintance."

Headmistress gives him a cool look, scrutinizing his features, "You come here to ask me something, what is it you want? Repayment for your deed?"

If her words shocked Adrian, he didn't show it. You, on the other hand, almost hit the floor.

Calmly, he responded, "I do come to you with a request, but it isn't for anything monetary. I wish to be her tutor. My castle holds not only the knowledge contained within every abbey and convent in Romania, but even beyond. There's no need for her to travel such distances, alone, when she can study in the safety of my castle."

"Tell me, Mister Tepes," the older woman stared him down with icy eyes, "are you looking for a student, or are you looking for a wife? Because I am not in the business of matchmaking, I'm not sending off one of my teachers to be your mistress, so let us be clear in our intentions."

"Headmistress!" you exclaim, but before you can continue Adrian puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you, "My intentions are pure, your concerns for her safety and her chastity are unwarranted. She will be treated with the utmost respect, and with time she'll hold more knowledge than even the library of Alexandria once did."

Her eyes were still stony, but now the older woman appeared thoughtful, directing her gaze at you, "Is this what you want, child?" Confidently, and with a nod of your head, you responded, "Yes."

"Very well," the headmistress nodded, "classes begin in two weeks. Do what you will until then, but be prepared to share what you have learned, I expect it will be much. After that, we can decide what you will do going forward. Understood?" "Yes Headmistress Christina," you respond, shocked, but doing your best to appear unfazed. "Now go, you have a long journey ahead of you," she dismissed, returning to her cabbage patch.

You and Adrian briskly took your leave, you all but held your breath until you finally left the gates.

"I think that went rather well, don't you agree?" Adrian smirked at you. You all but passed out. he continued, "And how lovely that she gave us her blessing to wed! we must share the momentous news with your parents!"

This time you choked, "Are you insane!" That entire exchange was absolutely torturous, Headmistress Christina was so forward and, and, and rude! How can he still joke after being accused of such unseemly things!

Adrian bowed deeply, still smirking, "I apologize my mistress, I didn't mean to be presumptuous, we don't have to be wed, I know I'm not worthy of your hand."

"What! No, that's not what I meant!" You screech, now beet red, waving your hands in front of you.

"Ahh so I do have a chance then, how lovely…" Adrian spoke dreamily.

All but at your wits' end, you begin to laugh. Who _is_ this strange man? Why would he choose to fight for your company so fervently? You don't know what to say or do anymore, it has overwhelmed you, all there is left to do is laugh. Laugh at how crazy these last two days have been, laugh at Headmistress's accusations, laugh at Adrian's completely lackadaisical response to the ludicrous exchange. Laugh because you know you're standing on the edge of a slippery slope, one that ends with you falling into the arms of this beautiful, mysterious man, a man who could break your heart just as easily as _he_ did, but you're ready to let yourself slip.

Adrian, while surprised by your laughter at first, joins you, and before long you're both in hysterics, leaning on each other and wiping the tears from your eyes. He watches your face, watches the way your eyes squint up and your cheek bones rise, how your nose scrunches and your supple lips stretch, he swears your laughter is the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, like a wind-chime, and he's completely smitten. He takes your hand and tucks it into the crook of his arm, "Come now my future mistress, my in-laws are awaiting us."

You give one last giggle, falling into step with him, "Whatever you would like, my future husband."


	5. Chapter 5

I can't thank you all enough for the traffic, the favorites, the followers and the reviews. As I mentioned at the start on the first chapter, this is my first time in over ten years publicly posting a fanfiction, so the feedback is important and appreciated. Things are about to get exciting, so as usual I hope you enjoy!

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

Chapter 5

The afternoon was spent in your family's sitting room recounting the day's tales: your journey from the castle, your meeting with the Headmistress, even your journey to visit the sisters of Agapia Monastery in Neamt County. Your mother served an early dinner, it was a modest meal and all of it was spent laughing and trading stories. Your father told some tales from his time during the Great World War, you shared some of the silly things your students had said or done, your mother talked about what it was like in the factory after Father went overseas to fight. Adrian sat, listened and laughed, seemingly completely contented.

Before you left you gathered a few belongings, packing them into Adrian's satchel. It was three hours until sundown, but you felt much safer with him at your side. You kissed your parents goodbye and set out.

The first two hours of your journey were spent discussing the works of Chaucer. You couldn't even believe a Romanian Nobleman had read Chaucer, let alone read him enough to critique him. Next you brought up the Lais of Marie de France, which he was also familiar with, but not as well read on. This excited you, to be able to recount such lovely tales, because the Lais were some of your absolute favorite stories, full of such romance and tragedy. He listened so intently as you told him about bird men flying into towers to pleasure captive maidens, of knights suffering curses at the hands of white hinds that can only be broken by true love, of werewolves cursed to lupine form by treacherous wives, and of the secret love shared by a knight and his fairy mistress.

When you finished, you looked to Adrian to see his reaction, he was already staring at you, his expression soft, a smile on his lips, "You are absolutely fascinating," he said breathlessly.

You flushed, "I'm not the interesting one, Marie de France is, she's the one who wrote the story!"

He shook his head, chuckling, "I'm not referring to the story."

Your flush deepens, "Nevermind me, you are far more interesting. I've never met a Romanian nobleman before, what was it like growing up in a castle? I can't imagine what I'd do with all of that space!"

He appeared thoughtful, "If I'm being honest, it didn't seem nearly as large when I was a child. My home was always full of love, and that love seemed to fill up the large spaces. It wasn't until my parents passed that I realized just how large the castle was, large and empty…" he seemed to drift off for a moment, until he met your eyes, then a smile returned to his lips, "the castle is meant to house love and laughter, it is incomplete without it."

For just a moment he seemed to radiate cold and sadness, you felt almost a draft flow out of him and wash over you. Such isolation, how long has he lived without them? You thought you could almost touch his sadness, it hung so thickly around him in that moment.

You couldn't help yourself, you wanted to know more, "It sounds like your parents really loved you, and each other."

He looked away again, "They did. There's was the truest love you could ever imagine. And I was my mother's greatest gift to my father, aside from her presence in his life."

How beautiful you think, what a pure and wholesome sentiment, "How did they meet?"

At this question Adrian perks up, "It's actually quite a funny story. My mother, in her pursuit to become a doctor, had heard of a man who possessed the knowledge of the gods, that man was my father. So she journeyed to his castle, knocked on his front door with the pommel of her knife, and demanded he teach her." You wear a look of shock, which causes him to laugh, and you quickly join him. In between giggles you manage, "So I guess he agreed to her demands?" He nods his head, "My father said that from the moment he met my mother, he was hopelessly in love. He called her a shining example of selfless humanity, and that she was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. I understand now what her arrival must have felt like to him. The castle can feel much more like a tomb than a home, and before she arrived he was utterly alone. Then, like a warm summer breeze she blew into his life, filling every inch of every dark and empty corner of his home and his heart with her joy, her fire, and her love. She transformed him, and so when she died…" here he paused, face crumpling, "he died with her."

"I'm sorry, Lord Tepes," was all you could manage to say, gently taking and squeezing his hand in yours. His eyes traveled to your joined hands, and silently he began to run his fingertips along your knuckles, your fingers, your veins. The simple act gave you goosebumps.

"So," you begin tentatively, "I guess that's something else your mother and I have in common." He lifts his eyes to meet yours, still absently caressing. You continue, "We both have a habit of barging in to castles demanding aid from the Tepes men," you finish with a small smirk. Adrian's eyebrows raise as your joke sinks in, his caresses pause. Then he begins to laugh, _yes, my beautiful summer breeze, you blew into my tomb and demanded my aid. Suddenly the dark corners didn't seem so empty and dark anymore, and I haven't been the same since._

By now the sun was beginning to set, the night's chill was rolling in, and Adrian still steadfastly held onto your arm, only now he also gripped your hand, and you decide to step a little closer. He must sense your intent, because at your movement he asks, "Are you getting cold, m'lady?"

You giggle, embarrassed, "I must confess, I do have a bit of a chill."

He chuckles, "Here," he says, first pulling you closer and wrapping his right arm around your waist, then readjusting his cloak so it covered you, "is that better?" Now the flush his close proximity coaxed from your cheeks will help warm you regardless, so you squeak, "Yes much better, thank you."

He gives a satisfied grunt, clearly pleased with himself. You can't see his face without turning your head completely to the left and then up, since he is at least a foot taller than you, but you imagine he's probably wearing a very satisfied smirk, which only deepens your flush.

"I gather," you begin, hoping to distract yourself, "that you're an only child, like me."

You know he nodded his head because his curtain of golden locks bobs in your peripheral, "I was a surprise, but a pleasant one. My father didn't think he could produce children, so when my mother told him she was pregnant, he nearly fainted. After that, they took more… care in their private affairs." You snicker, and he joins you, his chest rumbling against you makes your heart skip a beat.

"My mother had a similar problem. Do you wonder if such things are hereditary?" you ask. "They aren't," he responds, _except in my situation, I'm not so sure… there isn't exactly an abundance of information on those with my condition._ "You see, fertility complications are specific to the individual. So I wouldn't worry if I were you."

You hum in understanding. He clears his throat, "Why do you ask? Are you considering having children?" You're caught a little off guard, "Well, I mean, I, I mean I think it might be n-nice…" you trail off with a flustered shrug, your face red, "not right this second, but, I don't know, someday, I'd like to. How about you?"

You feel him suck in a breath, then quietly say, "God willing."

You try to look at him, but he quickly masks whatever look he wore with a smirk, "How fortuitous that we agree on such a matter, I'm sure Headmistress Christina will be pleased."

You gasp and snap your head to stare at him incredulously only to burst out in hysterics, your whole body trembling. He joins you, and you feel his arm tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, _please, Summer Breeze, keep laughing, play your wind chimes, just for me. My beautiful Summer Breeze, give me reprieve from my cold, silent tomb, and I'll forever be by your side…_

Finally, the castle came into view. "We made it!" you exclaim, "and not a moment too soon, my feet are in sore need of a rest after all of the walking we've done today."

"Would you be willing to join me for dinner? Your mother's cooking was wonderful, but it feels as if we ate ages ago, I'm famished," Adrian asks. "Absolutely," you respond, "just let me freshen up a bit, then I'd be honored to join you." His smile is sincere, "Wonderful."

You enter the castle together and he escorts you back to the room you previously stayed in, "I'll be back for you in an hour's time. Make yourself comfortable, and if you need anything just call out my name, I'll hear you."

You nod in understanding, "Thank you."

He bows and dismisses himself. No sooner than your door has closed do you begin to remove your outerwear. You can't wait to soak in the tub for a spell, anticipating the hot water soothing your tired muscles. Donning nothing but your undergarments you stretch and march into the bathroom, completely unaware of the man tucked away in the large golden wardrobe, waiting for his moment to strike.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I can't say thank you enough for all of the love this story has been receiving. I really poured my heart into this chapter, and I hope it shows.

I own neither Castlevania nor it's characters.

You soaked in the luxurious claw foot tub for a short while, just long enough to feel some of the tension leave your muscles. You didn't want to keep your gracious host waiting, after all. You dressed in a clean frock you had brought with you from home, it was light blue cotton with ivory lacing on the fitted sleeves, around the hem, and up the neck. It was cinched at the waist and flared out in an a-line that ended at the ankle. You pulled your hair back and secured it in a bun. With one last look in the mirror you observed your appearance, and were pleased with the reflection you spied.

Adrian knocked at the door and you hurried over to greet him, "I'm ready!" you sing-song as you open the door for him. He's dressed in a v-neck white tunic, tight black leather pants, black velvet overcoat trimmed in gold, and matching gold trimmed knee high leather boots. His golden eyes drink you in, "You are a portrait of loveliness, the goddess of springtime herself." You blush furiously and curtsy, "Thank you, Lord Tepes."

"I've been meaning to ask you," he inquires while offering his arm, you take it and he begins leading you down the hall, "why do you call me 'Lord Tepes'?"

You raise your eyebrows, "Have I offended you? I apologize, am I referring to you by the incorrect title?"

He smirks, "Indeed you are."

Now embarrassed you begin to apologize, "I'm so sorry! My intention was certainly not to offend! Please, tell me the proper title I should be referring to you by, and I'll adopt it post-haste."

Still smirking he clears his throat, "Do not fret, I'll forgive you for your transgressions this time, but I expect it not to happen again. My correct title is in fact Adrian."

With the final word you realize he's once again taken the opportunity to tease you and you scowl. Your sour expression brings forth his laughter, "Oh my dear, I don't think I'll ever tire of teasing you, that little puss you wear when I do is just the most adorable thing I've ever seen." You growl and roll your eyes, your words dripping with sarcasm, "I'm so glad I'm able to entertain you, _Adrian_."

He holds open the dining room door for you and leads you to the table, his hand on the small of your back, and you can see that atop your dinner plate is a beautiful bouquet of white lilies. When you reach your seat you can't help but gasp at the beautiful bundle, carefully lifting it to inspect it closer. Your eyes slide closed and you sniff, taking in the soft scent.

"Do you like them?" he inquires from beside you. You gently nod your head, "They're beautiful." He smiles softly at you, "Wonderful, I'm so glad you like them. Here," he scoops up an empty crystal vase from the table, "place them in this. I think they'll be a lovely addition to your room. Don't you think?" You pause, his words rolling over once more in your mind, a gift to you, for your room. You're overcome with gratitude, a bright smile spreads across your face, "I agree. Thank you, Adrian."

His eyes seem to slide shut for a moment when his name leaves your lips, and when they reopen they almost appear bronze, "You are most welcome, m'lady."

You take your places at the table and indulge in the delicious meal. Once again the thought crosses your mind, who prepared this food? And additionally, did you really take that long to get ready that it afforded him the time to pick those beautiful lilies? You know the answer must be servants, but you have seen neither hide nor hair of a single other person since you first arrived. Your family could never afford something like servants, so perhaps this was normal, for them to always be hidden. How would you know?

After you finish your meal you sink back in your chair and let out a yawn, discretely hiding it with your hand. Adrian smiles, "I both understand and agree. It's been a long day, let me walk you to bed. Tomorrow I'll be back at sunrise to collect you for our first lesson, so I need you to be well rested." He rises from his chair and helps you from your own, taking the vase of lilies in one hand and placing his other on the small of your back. As you head for the door you feel his hand lightly slide across your back until it is cupped around your waist. The feel of it reassures you, and discreetly you step closer to him, so close that your knuckles brush his thigh as you walk together.

When you reach your room he enters with you, placing the vase on your dressing table. He returns to the doorway and turns you to face him, finally letting go of your waist he instead takes your hand and bows kissing first the back of your hand, and then looking up at you between the curtains of his golden hair he slowly turns your hand over and kisses your palm. Without thinking, your fingers curl up to gently caress his chin, and at the contact his eyes slide shut. Slightly lowering your palm from his lips he speaks, his voice unusually rough, "Goodnight, m'lady." It isn't until after he's finished speaking that his eyes finally reopen, and you wonder if the roughness of his voice has anything to do with how dilated his pupils appear. "Goodnight, Adrian," your voice sounds strangely breathless, and you wonder if your own pupils appear just as dilated. He releases your hand and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You undress a little more slowly this time, closing your eyes and sliding your hands over your skin as you do, and trying not to admit that the hands you're imagining are not your own. As you pull on the white cotton nightgown you brought from home you gaze at the lilies, so soft and white, and try not to think about whose skin those pale petals remind you of. You practically float into bed, the enchantment of the evening's events has you walking on clouds, and you easily fall asleep, eager to see what tomorrow has in store for you.

A large hand clamps down over your mouth, startling you awake. Your eyes fly open, searching for the source of this sudden assault. In the darkness you make out the figure of a very large, muscular man with wavy brown hair that just brushed his shoulders. He's staring at you with satisfied determination, and you're absolutely petrified. You begin to thrash, your hands flying to your face, attempting to pry off the meaty paw. You kick your legs, hoping to hit something solid, and you roll your body hoping to squirm free. All of your attempts are in vain though, so instead you begin to scream. The intruder's eyebrows furrow, "Relax little doe, I'm here to rescue you."

A wave of confusion washes over you, stilling your movements. He misinterprets it as understanding and his face relaxes, "Be silent and I'll be able to bring you to safety. Then I'll vanquish that devil for imprisoning you like this, such a beautiful maiden doesn't deserve such an ill fate."

What accent was that? It sounded remotely… Texan. At this he finally removed his hand, and with all you could muster you screamed, "ADRIAAAAAN!"

In angry shock he once again clamped his hand over your mouth, "What are you doing?! He'll hear you if you scream like that! Or did that monster cast a spell on you that's clouding your judgement?"

Faster than your brain could register your bedroom door flew open with a bang, and the hand was ripped from your face as it's owner was flung across the room. You sat up, shaking, and standing in front of you, poised to pounce on the intruder, is Adrian.

The intruder rises to his feet and brandishes a whip, "My name is John Morris and I've come to slay you, demon!"

Adrian growls, "A Morris?" The growl is inhuman, animalistic, he sneers, "I see, only a classless Morris would invade my home and threaten my mistress! YOU are the only demon I see!"

Morris cackles, "I'll take great pleasure in ending your existence, son of Dracula!" With that, Morris cracked his whip straight at you both.

In a flash you were across the room, beside the wardrobe, and being gently deposited on the floor by Adrian. He looked into your eyes ruefully and whispered, "My only wish, my only hope, is that someday you will forgive me. I am sorry, my Summer Breeze."

Before you could even respond he was gone, reappearing in front of Morris. Adrian's speed was inhuman, he seemed to phase through the room rather than run. Morris cracked the whip once more, Adrian dodged, catching a sword that seemed to fly through the air straight to him, and parried a dagger Morris produced in his right hand. Where did the sword come from, how did it fly directly to Adrian's hand?

The whip cracked, Adrian caught it with his left arm, the whip wrapping tightly around it, and faintly you heard a sizzle. Adrian yanked Morris forward with his whip-wrapped arm and swung him across the room. The whip loosed from his arm, exposing a now burnt expanse of skin. The whip appeared to be nothing but common leather, how could it have burnt him so badly?

Morris slammed into the vanity, shattering it under the force of his impact. With a groan Morris produced a small glass capsule of what appeared to be water and chucked it at Adrian. Adrian dodged it and charged him, wrapping his hand around Morris' throat and raising him up effortlessly. Morris was almost double Adrian's size, how was he able to lift him so easily? Morris reproduced his dagger and plunged it into Adrian's side, causing Adrian to drop him. You gasp, screaming Adrian's name. Adrian backed away from him, one hand covering his bleeding side, the other readying his sword. You swear you see the glint of what appear to be fangs resting on Adrian's lower lip as he grits his teeth, scowling at Morris. Morris stands, readying his own weapons.

Adrian lunges once more, his feet don't seem to even touch the ground as he flies forward. Morris attempts to block Adrian's sword, but in the blink of an eye Adrian is now behind him, except Morris seems to anticipate this, spinning the whip above himself, catching Adrian with a crack to the side of the head that sends him flying. You gasp again, this time making your way along the outskirts of the room towards where he landed. Adrian isn't down for long though, a moment later he is back on his feet, sword once again at the ready.

Morris smiles wickedly and cracks his whip, Adrian dodges, but Morris rushes him, tackling him to the ground not two feet in front of you. Adrian's sword is loosed from his hand with the impact, but you notice his nails, now long like claws, are poised to strike Morris's throat. Morris holds his dagger to Adrian's heart and he begins to laugh wickedly, "This is it you unholy demon, you son of the devil himself!"

You're terrified, but you can't sit idly by while this monster murders Adrian. You look around yourself wildly, looking for anything you could grab, anything that could stop this. When Morris and Adrian come crashing down in front of you it's clear that this is your chance. You grab the crystal vase from the dressing table, dump out the lilies, and smash it right over the back of Morris's head. Morris slumps over top of Adrian, passed out cold.

For a pregnant moment no one moves, the room is in utter silence, and you fear for the worst. Finally you hear Adrian sigh before tumbling Morris off of himself, and you let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Adrian rolls off of his back and on to his knees, facing you. He's cut up, burned and bleeding, and his face crumples. He falls forward, palms flat on the ground, head bowed, he's so close that the crown of his golden head is inches from your chest and pleadingly he whispers, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don't cry…"

Don't cry? But that's when reality floods back to you, you're on your knees in hysterics, your face is drenched and you're trembling terribly.

His voice comes out cracked, "I've done enough damage, I'll go," but as he turns to leave you raise your shaking hands and gently place them on either side of his head, stilling him. Cautiously he raises his head to look at you, searching your face for answers, and as he does your arms slowly wrap around his neck, embracing him. For a moment he is absolutely still, soaking in your actions, until his own hands raise from the floor and wrap around your waist. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and you feel his chest hitch before he lets out a shuddering breath, his arms tightening around you.

His embrace comforts you. Your tears begin to slow until eventually you're able to whisper, "I'm so glad you're okay."

At your words his entire body tightens around yours and he responds, "I don't deserve you. I'm… he's right. I'm not…" but before he can finish you gently shush him, "First, let us do something about that monster. Then, I want to hear… everything. I want to hear it from your mouth… the mouth I trust. Not his." Adrian lifts his head and slackens his grip so that he can face you. His cheeks glisten slightly, wet with his own tears. He raises to his full height on his knees, pulling your hips flush against him, and stares down into your eyes with a look of… admiration, perhaps? Admiration and something else, "Yes, my mistress."

He rose, taking you up with him, and then slowly released you so he could instead pick up the unconscious intruder and toss him over his shoulder, all the while his eyes never leaving yours. Clearing his throat he began, "I will return shortly. I can meet you in the sitting room upon my return, if it pleases you."

You nod your head and with that he leaves. Carefully you traverse the room lighting some of the unbroken candles, and with a sigh you take in the damage. The beautiful room is in absolute tatters. The lilies are crumpled upon the floor next to the shattered crystal vase. Cautiously you make your way to the wardrobe and remove your light blue frock, changing swiftly before exiting the war zone.

It isn't long after you arrive in the sitting room that Adrian rejoins you. You stand before the fireplace, but you hear him behind you, the rustle of his clothing alerting you to his presence, and you turn to find him bowing before you. Once you've acknowledged him he stands tall once more, and you notice that his appearance has entirely changed. No longer are his clothes torn or bloody, he stood before you in a pristine long sleeve V-neck white tunic, tight black leather pants, and knee high leather boots. You didn't see a single scratch on his perfect porcelain skin.

He gestures towards the couch, "Please, let's have a seat, I have much to tell, and it would be best shared while sitting."

You take his offer and he joins you, but he sits so that he's facing you. Except he isn't looking at you, his golden eyes are focused on your hands, and gently he claims them in his own, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of your hands.

Still without looking at you he begins, taking a deep breath, "I am… a Dhampir."

Your eyes travel from your joined hands to his downcast eyes, your eyebrows raised, "…a what?"

He flinches at your response and sighs, "I'm sorry, I was afraid of frightening you, it's… it's not… natural, what I am, but I didn't… I didn't want you to fear me. I've never felt so… so comfortable with someone, so content, so… different. You're different, you're incredible, I apologize for me forwardness and for my selfishness, I know you had to learn the truth eventually, I just wish it wasn't like this."

At your silence he lifted his gaze to yours and was met with utter confusion. You sat dumbfounded, trying to understand just what exactly he was telling you. What in the world is a Dhampir? Is it a part of the Romanian social class system? Who was that crazy man that attacked you? Why was he so determined to kill Adrian? Why did he say he was saving you? How was Adrian able to move so quickly?

Adrian's expression softened, "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way. Are you familiar with what a vampire is?"

You nod, "I am, I read a book about one. The book was about a vampire named Dracula. Oh and I recently saw that film, Nosferatu, wasn't that a vampire?"

He nods, "Dracula… is my father. My father is the vampire Dracula."

Even more confused you ask, "Your father is Max Schreck?"

At this a chuckle escapes his lips, but his eyes are sad, "No, my dear innocent Summer Breeze, although I wish it were that simple. Dracula is real, vampires are real, everything you've thought to only be a frightening tale to scare children into obeying their parents… is real. I am the product of a union between a vampire and a human, that is what a Dhampir is."

Suddenly the pieces begin falling into place.

You nod your head in understanding, "I see now why you were worried about telling me this, but…" you focus on those golden orbs, your face the portrait of relief, a sincere smile on your lips, "the way I feel about you is not going to change, least of all because of your lineage." In that moment all you could think about was how you felt when you watched that psycho stab Adrian. You thought he was going to die… and it terrified you. It broke you. You realized that was the moment you began to cry uncontrollably. And you knew, right in that moment, that you had fallen in love with him. And right now nothing else mattered but that.

Adrian let out a hoarse laugh and shook his head incredulously, smiling at you with complete adoration, _Is this how you felt, father? Is this what it feels like… to love and be loved? I think… I finally understand._

He released your hands, but quickly raised his to cup your face. Your hands wandered to rest on his thigh, inching you closer to him, closer to those golden orbs, those soft lips, and before you could flush and back away those soft lips were upon yours, and in that moment your fledgling love gained it's wings.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

This is definitely the hot and heavy chapter, so if you aren't into that, skip it. This chapter is also slightly on the shorter side but a lot happens, so in my opinion the content makes up for the length.

Finally, I can't say thank you enough for the positive response this story has been getting, I hope I continue to bring you all joy!

Disclaimer: I neither own Castlevania nor it's characters.

Adrian kissed you softly, his cold hands cupped your face and held it close. Slowly his left hand slid back, caressing your cheek, and came to rest on the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. His right hand moved next, slowly he dragged it down your neck, across your shoulder, down your arm, it sent a chill down your spine and in response you tighten your grip on his thigh. He lightly moans and pushes his right hand to rest on your lower back.

Finally you break the kiss with a gasp, only to have him pull you in close once more. His kiss is a little hungrier this time, and you respond by cautiously running your hands up his thigh, up his torso, you shift your legs, curling your right leg underneath you so that you can now fully face him.

He mirrors your movements, and once he settles you wrap your wandering hands around his waist. He leans forward and pulls you tight to his chest, forcing you backward against the arm of the couch. You break the kiss again, panting, and open your eyes. His golden orbs are deep bronze and his eyelids are heavy with lust, his mouth is slightly open and he's panting lightly, the sight of him makes you bite your lip, and you feel warmth pooling in your belly. His eyes flicker to your lip and he leans forward again, claiming your lower lip between his teeth.

Your arms tighten around him, and slowly you drag your nails down his back while parting your legs, allowing him to fit between your thighs. When his hips meet yours he groans, and suddenly you feel a sharp prick on your lower lip. You wince and try to draw back, but Adrian's grip on you is like iron. You feel him sucking on your lip, his heart is pounding, and he's pulling you underneath him, pinning you down. Slowly he starts to grind his very evident arousal against you, seeking your heat, all while he continues to suck at the wound on your lower lip. Overwhelmed you gasp and bring your hands up to grip his shoulders, attempting to steady him.

Immediately he stills, his eyes shoot open and he backs off, lifting himself off of you but keeping himself at arm's length. He's panting, staring at you with blood red eyes full of shame.

His face crumples, his voice cracks, "This is exactly what I feared, I'm so sorry my delicate lily, I didn't intend to frighten you, please forgive me."

You move your hands to cup his face and take a deep breath, "It's alright, really, it's just been a long time, and the, um, the blood thing is new."

He bows his head, leaning into your right hand, "That was an accident… when I get… well, when I get excited, my fangs extend, and in my excitement I accidentally pricked you. Once your blood hit my tongue… I got a little carried away. I'm truly sorry."

Gently, Adrian righted you on the couch, and then righted himself, leaving his left arm draped behind you across the back of the couch. You scooted a little closer to him, tucking yourself into the crook of his arm, and gently placed your right hand on his thigh in a gesture of reassurance, "I promise I'm okay, I was just a little startled," absently you place a tentative finger on your lip, it isn't actively bleeding anymore and you feel a light scab forming, "What is it like? Drinking blood I mean."

You meet his eyes, those blood red eyes, staring back at you in surprise, "It's hard to explain. It's the feeling of having gone without water for an eternity, only to have your thirst unequivocally quenched. It fills you with many things, like strength and energy, and it allows me to do many things, like heal my wounds. And if I have enough of it… I can feel you. I can feel your emotions, your thoughts. It becomes a bond."

Uncomfortably he adjusts the crotch of his pants, and you see that he is still extremely erect. He sees that you've noticed his arousal and he blushes, "As I said, it fills you with… a lot of things."

You blush in return and avert your eyes, "So then… did my blood help the wounds that horrible man gave you?"

He regards you with a soft smile, "No, my delicate lily, I didn't drink enough for it to heal me. Just enough to… become a little carried away."

You appear thoughtful, debating if what you were about to offer was wise, but… Adrian would never hurt you, somehow you knew that to be undoubtedly true.

"What if," you began tentatively, "What if you did drink enough to heal you."

His eyebrows shot up. Then slowly he closed his eyes, his face unhappy, and shook his head, "I couldn't, I couldn't do that to you. You have no idea what you're offering me."

Slightly agitated at his implication of ignorance you respond, "I know exactly what I'm offering you. I don't want you to be hurt for no reason, not when I can help."

His eyes slowly opened, his expression sad, "But I can hurt YOU, and that I could never forgive myself for. Come, my precious mistress, it's late, we should retire for the evening."

With that he slowly rose, and offered you his arm.

You were incredibly torn. You were concerned for him, those injuries were nothing to scoff at, the least you could do was offer him something that could help. But you also didn't want to fight with him, if he was putting his foot down on the matter it would be rude of you to argue, especially after how gracious he's been.

With a sigh you take his arm and allow him to lead you out.

Instead of taking you back to your room though he brings you somewhere else. As you reach the door he stops, turning to face you. His eyes, now bronze once more, linger on your lips for a brief moment, "This is my room, and before me it belonged to my parents. Your room is in unacceptable condition, so I thought it would be best if you slept here tonight. Because of my injuries I will be retiring elsewhere, so you will have your privacy."

With that he opened the door, revealing a large and lavish bedroom decorated in black, silver and red. French doors in the back of the room lead to a balcony, a door to the right appeared to lead to a bathroom. Two large black wardrobes sat on either side of the room, adjacent to matching dressing tables. The left wall held an elegant vanity that was covered in exquisite jewelry. A beautiful electric chandelier hung in the middle of the room, just in front of the king sized canopied bed.

Your mouth hung open in absolute awe of the beautifully elegant room.

"Am I to assume it's to your liking?" your eyes flitted to his, his signature smirk was in place.

You decided to play along, "It'll do."

He chuckled, "Excellent. Now please, get some rest, we've had a long day."

Without thinking you grab his hand, stopping his exit, "But… if I'm taking your room, where will you sleep?"

He smiles softly, first looking at your hand grasping his, then looking at your face, raising his hand to rest on your cheek, "Do not fret for me, little dove, your concern for me warms my heart in a way I haven't felt in, well, ages, but I'll be fine."

Your brow wrinkles, you aren't convinced, your hand comes up to rest on his.

He laughs at your concern, "Really, dearest, nothing would bring me more joy than sharing my bed with you, but I'm trying to show some restraint."

You blush and look away, which only makes him laugh more. He takes both of your hands in each of his, gets down on one knee, and places a gentle kiss on the back of each of your hands, "Sleep well, my dear mistress."

"Good night, my dear lord," you reply, smiling softly.

He returns your smile before slowly rising and departing.

With a sigh you make your way to the left side dressing table, removing your dress and folding it neatly before placing it on the table. In nothing but your undergarments you flick off the lights and then slip under the sheets in the incredibly large bed. You briefly imagine Adrian, shirtless, strewn across these same sheets, and it forms a knot in your stomach. You giggle at your school girl antics and close your eyes, a smile on your face as sleep claims you.

Many floors below you Adrian appears in a dark stone cell, the only thing present beside himself is a large black coffin trimmed in gold. With a sigh he removes his tunic while the coffin door slides open for him. As he steps inside he briefly imagines you, wearing next to nothing, strewn across his bed sheets upstairs, he feels a knot form in his stomach and the taste of your blood still lingers on his tongue, just enough blood to tell him you're imagining him in a similar position and softly he laughs, shaking his head, _I'm trying to show restraint, my beautiful mistress, but if you keep this up… I don't know how long I'm going to last before I'm no longer able to stop myself. And when that happens… I fear what I might do to you. I need you, my delicate lily, my perfect summer breeze, you cannot fathom how deeply I need you. And for that reason I'll do anything to keep you, to earn your equal need for me. Please my beautiful mistress, let this unnatural creature prove his mettle as a man, and please God, give me the strength to do so._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

As always, thank you for the reviews.

I want to give a shout-out to SeleneDarkbloom, our exchange lead to a cooking related moment in this chapter.

I own neither Castlevania nor it's characters.

It was nearly noon when you awoke the next day, you seemed to be making a habit of sleeping in. then again, the last three days had been rather hectic, no wonder you were exhausted. You stretch, feeling your bones pop and slowly rise, sliding out of the bed.

The late morning light softly filters through the curtains draped across the balcony's French doors and it beckons you. Still in your undergarments you approach the balcony doors, drawing the curtains and then stepping outside. The air was crisp and cool, forming goosebumps on your arms but you enjoyed it.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and stepped out to the balcony's railing. The sight was one to behold, the forest seemed to stretch on forever, you could even make out a nearby stream. You stood there a moment, marveling at the natural beauty laid out before you, leaving your mind to wander to another natural beauty: Adrian. Last night's steamy affair made its way to the front of your mind and you couldn't help but sigh, hugging yourself a little tighter. How scandalously you had acted, you giggled to yourself. You and your ex-fiancé had indeed gotten into some hanky-panky while you were together, but you had stayed a virgin, an old vestige of your Christian upbringing. But that, last night, there was more passion in that exchange than you had ever felt in the entirety of your previous relationship. And while you didn't want to be presumptuous, you had a feeling Adrian felt that powerful passion as well. It was something about the way he looked at you, touched you, his kiss had felt like it was devouring you, and if you were being honest with yourself, you wanted to be devoured. You couldn't help but hope you'd share another passionate encounter tonight.

Shaking your head with a smile on your face you re-enter the bedroom and begin to dress. Once you're ready you decide to try and find your way to the kitchen, your stomach is grumbling and it'll be impossible to focus on an empty stomach. To your surprise you remember your way to the dining room, and sure enough through a door in the back of the hall is the large kitchen. In the ice box you find a dozen eggs, sausage, and butter. In the bread box is an entire loaf of bread. Excellent, you think to yourself, this is the perfect opportunity to both repay and impress your host, so you set to cooking.

45 minutes later a beautiful breakfast spread has been plated, and when you exit the kitchen balancing the platters there stands Adrian, smiling broadly.

"Perfect timing!" you exclaim, "I hope you're hungry, because I made us breakfast!" you finish by flourishing the platters and putting on a big cheesy grin.

Adrian chuckles, "My, weren't you busy? You are truly wonderful dearest, thank you, I cannot express how grateful I am. It's been a long time since someone cooked for me."

Briefly you mull over that statement, don't his servants cook for him? But perhaps he just means since a woman has.

You set down the platters and he pulls out your chair for you. It doesn't take long for everything to be eaten. You giggle, "I guess you were pretty hungry, eh?"

He smirks, "Ravenous."

You can't help but feel like his response was loaded, and it goads a blush from your cheeks, you look away sheepishly.

When he speaks you bring your eyes back up to meet his, "Are you ready to begin our lessons?"

You respond with a nod, "I am, let me just clean up first."

He waves dismissively, "Do not fret over the plates, they'll be taken care of. Come, let's begin," and with that he offers his arm.

You spend the afternoon together in the library. He decides that each day will be spent on a different major subject, starting with Science. You have since been studying and discussing the natural sciences: plants, animals, minerals, life cycles. He's gentle when he explains things, he gladly answers every question you conceive of, and you conceive of many. Before long the sun has set, and yet it feels like no time has passed at all.

You've just finished discussing sources of natural spring water when he stands, closing his book and extending his hand to you, "Let us take a break. How about a walk through the garden to ease our minds a bit?"

You take his hand with a smile and he leads you out of the room, through a back door, and into a large garden. You gasp at the sight. It seems the garden is broken into sections. As if reading your thoughts, Adrian answers, "The garden is separated into four sections: fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers. I can't exactly waltz in and out of town on a whim, so this garden is extremely important."

You manage to speak, "It's absolutely lovely. Did you plant all of this?"

He looks out at the garden, "Most of it yes, such as the fruits and vegetables, but not the flowers. You see, this garden was a gift from my father to my mother, in an effort to make her stay here at the castle more convenient and enjoyable. The flowers are a hold-over from then, they come back every year, bigger and more beautiful, just like the love they shared."

His eyes come back to meet yours and he looks at you dreamily, smiling.

You are awestruck at the look on his face, it's becoming clear to you just how much he admires the love his parents shared.

"May I see the flowers?" you ask.

Without hesitation he begins leading you towards them, "It would be my pleasure."

The sections are separated by small wooden fences, and each section has a pebble-covered path leading to its gate. He leads you down the path, opening the gate for you and you step inside, immediately taken aback by the delicate smell and wondrous beauty. He retakes your arm and leads you through, pointing out the names of different flowers and where they are native to. At the very back of the garden is a large crop of lilies, planted in the shape of a heart. You notice that a few have been clipped and removed. You gasp at the precious sight before you, and your hand comes to rest on your chest.

Adrian, both seeing and feeling your reaction, releases your arm and instead wraps his arm around your waist, "Lilies were my mother's favorite. Father was quite the romantic, and from what he proudly told me, her reaction to this display was similar to yours, except she went on to jump into his arms and cover him in… well, you get the idea." You blush. "Father was quite proud of himself," Adrian chuckled, "he truly relished in her joy." _A sentiment I have grown to share, it seems._

You tear your eyes away from the lilies to look at him, "He sounds like a wonderful man, I wish I could've met him."

At this Adrian seems to still, his face going dark before he looks away, "Let's head back inside, the night is young and there is still much to do."

You can't help but worry that you've said something you shouldn't have, although you don't know what, so you decide to stay quiet for now and allow Adrian to lead you back inside.

He returns you to the library and pulls two books from one of the shelves, placing them on the table you had been sitting at earlier. His eyes are sad, but his voice is toneless, "Read these, and jot down any things you don't understand. I will return to you in an hour, at which time we will discuss what you've read and then sit down to supper."

You nod, taking one of the books and sitting at the table with it.

"Until then," he says with a bow, and then exits.

The hour crawls by, you find it incredibly difficult to focus, all you can do is worry. You know you've somehow said something to upset him, you just don't know what, but what you do know is that you must apologize. You do your best to get through half of the tome before the hour is up, and sure enough Adrian returns.

You stand and approach him, taking both of his hands in your own, and stare directly into his eyes with a determined expression. He doesn't hide his surprise at your actions.

You take a deep breath, "I am sorry for any distressing remark I may have made to you. My intention has never been to upset you. I am truly sorry, Adrian."

His expression stays cemented in shock, until finally he shakes his head, his expression changing into one of sadness. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and slowly kisses each of your knuckles. Now it's your turn to wear an expression of shock. Each kiss is reverent, savory, his pained eyes never leaving yours. You feel a shiver run up your spine but you dare not move, not even a breath. When he reaches the last knuckle his final kiss lingers, he takes a deep breath and finally speaks, lowering your hands but not yet releasing them, "Your apology is unnecessary, for I am the one who must apologize. My reaction has troubled you, and someday I will explain my actions, but not today. Until then, please know that you've done nothing wrong. In fact, you've done quite the opposite, you've done more right than I even deserve. So please dearest, do not fret. Now come, an excellent dinner awaits you, we can discuss what you've read over our meal."

Finally he smiles and you return it, warm and bright, just like his eyes. He takes your arm and leads you to the dining hall, and sure enough an incredible spread adorns the table. Adrian escorts you to your chair and the two of you sit, beginning to eat.

As usual it's delicious, and you can't help but praise it, "Once again the food utterly impresses! Please, give my compliments to the chef!"

He chuckles, "The chef graciously accepts your compliments. It's both a pleasure and an honor to cook for someone else."

It takes a moment before his words sink in, "Wait a minute, you made this?"

He looks back at you puzzled, "Of course, who else is going to cook?"

You stammer, "I don't know, I thought maybe one of your servants did."

"Servants?" Now it's his turn to be confused, "I don't have any servants. I am the sole resident of this castle, aside from you now, of course."

Your mind races, "But, all of these dinners, the dirty dishes, my clothes the night I first arrived, all of that… was you?!"

His eyebrows are raised so high they are practically one with his hairline, "Of course it was me, who else is there?"

You absolutely implode, "But… but how?!"

He shrugs, "I'm quite quick you know, I'm able to do things faster than a regular human."

It seems like the sort of revelation that should have been obvious, and yet you feel like the rug was pulled out from under you. You do your best imitation of a fish, your mouth opening and closing repeatedly, at a loss for words. You let what he's said sink in, it seems you overlooked something very obvious. In your quest to ignore his Dhampir nature in an attempt to not treat him differently, it was that exact nature that answered what should have been an easy question. Your face goes completely red, you slap your hand to your forehead, and begin to laugh.

Adrian, sensing your understanding and embarrassment, begins to laugh as well, "Servants? What is this, the 1800's?"

You put your hands up defensively, but you're still laughing, "I don't know, I couldn't think of a better solution! And it's not like I've spent a lot of time in castles to know whether or not they have servants!"

He's laughing so hard it brings a tear to his eye, he wipes it away before placing his hand on top of yours. With a squeeze he takes a deep breath, trying to get himself under control, "I needed that, thank you."

After you finish your meal you raise from your chair, gathering some of the plates.

He understands your intent, "Leave them, I'll clean up later."

You reply with a small smile, "Please, allow me to help you, I want to earn my keep."

He senses your determination and relents, "Very well."

Together you bring all of the dishware into the kitchen and he hands you a small towel, "I'll wash, you dry. We can put everything away together."

You nod, pushing up your sleeves. He takes his place in front of the sink, pushes up his sleeves, and then all you see is a blur as wet dishes begin to pile up in front of you. You blink and he's done, turning to face you with a smirk, "Would you like some help with those?"

Once the shock subsides you grouse, "Show-off…"

He laughs and grabs a towel, drying the plates off at a human speed.

"Not to pump your ego any further, but I must say, you are an excellent cook," you confess shyly, peering up at him. 

Sincerely he replies, "Thank you, I've had a lot of time to learn."

Curiosity gets the best of you once again and you ask, "How long have you lived alone?"

He pauses for a moment, "Since I was a teenager. But that no longer matters to me, really," he smiles warmly at you, "because I'm not alone anymore."

You blush, overcome with emotion, "I don't know how I ended up here, but… I'm glad I did. I'm glad I found you, Adrian."

Quietly he replies, "I'm glad you found me, too."

You finish drying the dishware and then set to the task of putting everything away with the help of Adrian's guidance.

Hands on his hips he appraises the kitchen once you've both finished, "Excellent work, dearest. You were right, cleaning up together is much more enjoyable than cleaning up alone."

"I'm happy I could help," you respond with a smile, "although," you smirk, "it didn't look like I was much help, really."

"Your company was all the help I needed," he replies with a wink.

You blush and swat him with your towel, laughing, "Cocksure show-off, I swear…"

He raises his eyebrows, smirking, "What's that about my cock?"

You gasp and squeal, laughing and swatting him again, "I called you cocksure, arrogant, you dirty boy! The only person talking about your cock is you!"

As the word "cock" leaves your lips, Adrian cannot deny the twitch he feels between his legs. He buries the urge to grab you, push you up against the wall, and accost your lips. The urge becomes harder to fight when he senses your mutual longing, "Cocksure, perhaps, but not ruthless. That being said, it's late, I've kept you up long enough, let me walk you to bed."

He escorts you to your room, but you pause when you reach the door, "Not to try and take your bed from you again, but perhaps you've forgotten, my room is in tatters."

He just smirks and opens the door, revealing a perfectly reorganized room.

You gasp and your eyes fly to him, "But, just last night it was in shambles!"

He smirks, stepping away from the door with a bow, "Perhaps it was the servants."

He leaves you to stew in your surprise. When you enter, a new crystal vase full of fresh lilies sits on your dressing table, and with your hand on your heart you swear somewhere, wherever he is, that cocksure romantic is smirking, and you can't help but laugh because your first reaction was to cover him in… well, you know.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I decided to do a minor time skip. I took the time to write out the series of events I want this story to follow and the time at which those events need to happen, and I found that I'm dying for them to become more intimate which therefore meant more time needs to pass (I literally spent five chapters talking about ONE DAY. ONE!). Time skips won't happen often, and they will always be minor, so do not fret. All of this being said, this is a 3,500 word chapter on just one day, so clearly I still enjoy the little details lol. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and rest assured that there will be MANY more chapters to come. I have quite the story left to tell.

Note: "Noroc" is Romanian for "Cheers".

As always, thank you so so so much for the reviews, they fill my heart with more love than you can imagine.

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

The following four days seemed to float by. Each morning you awoke, dressed, and headed for the kitchen. The day after your breakfast spread Adrian attempted to beat you to the kitchen, and he was successful, preparing a beautiful meal of Eggs Benedict for you both. But you convinced him to let you take over breakfast duties since he always prepared dinner, and he relented.

After breakfast you would both proceed to the library, and that day's lesson would begin. Wednesday was Math, Thursday was Literature, Friday was History, but Saturday was special. Saturday he taught you about healing. With a face both sad and stern he all but pleaded with you, "This knowledge is both incredibly valuable and important, but I implore you, use it with caution."

You didn't quite understand why he spoke with such gravity, but you decided not to push it.

Each night Adrian prepared dinner, and every meal was more delicious than the last: boar, venison, chicken, pheasant.

And after each meal you cleaned the dishware together, Adrian continuing to show off his unnatural speed while you did your best to keep up, laughing all the while. On Friday, amidst washing, Adrian turned to you to reveal he had given himself a sudsy mustache and goatee. He raised an eyebrow at you and crossed his arms over his chest and you absolutely lost it, nearly dropping the plate you had been drying.

In between hysterics you managed to say, "I think it suits you, actually!"

He turned back to the sink, wiping the suds from his face before you could see his blush.

After your kitchen chores were complete he would escort you to bed, bidding you good evening and placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

And every night just before sleep claimed you, you'd gaze at the dressing table and wonder if the lilies were being replaced, or if they really did just stay fresh for that long.

Today is Sunday. It's been exactly one week since you first arrived, and yet it feels like it's been a much longer. You lie in bed reflecting on the events of the week, reflecting on Adrian, reflecting on yourself.

Your routine is a comfortable one, it's clear that you get along well and that you've come to understand quite a bit about each other. You marvel at this, how wonderful it is to be this way with someone, and so soon after meeting!

But there's more, your stomach begins to knot as your thoughts shift to those glances you catch him taking of you, of the savory kisses he places on your hands, and how hungry his golden eyes look as his lips linger.

Sometimes you catch him running his tongue over his teeth after he breaks eye contact with you, and once while you were working out a Math problem he stood leaning over you, his head over your shoulder, and you swear you heard him sniff your neck.

This brought to surface another thought, was ignoring his Dhampirism the correct course of action? Up until now you had chosen not to acknowledge it, but perhaps instead you should be asking questions about it. You admitted you didn't know much at all about Dhampirs, maybe by learning more you could be of more help, or at the very least, be more understanding of his situation. You resolved yourself to bring it up this evening and made a mental list of questions to ask.

You had laid in bed for long enough, it was time to start your day. As had become the usual your first stop was the kitchen. You decide that today is a good day for French Toast, and so you set about your task. It isn't long before you've finished, the smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the air, and as you plate the fluffy slices Adrian enters the kitchen, sniffing the air and smiling.

You greet him cheerfully, "Good morning, Adrian!"

"Good morning, dearest. The castle smells absolutely heavenly this morning. Let me help you with those," he adds, taking some of the plates and walking them out to the dining hall.

Once everything has been arranged you take your seats, and after taking a few bites Adrian speaks, "You've truly outdone yourself today. And to be honest, this breakfast is perfect for today's lesson, we will surely need the energy."

You look at him quizzically, "Energy for what? What are we doing today?"

His eyes are practically sparkling, "Fencing!"

You gasp and give a little clap, "Yay! I was hoping you hadn't forgotten, what a lovely break this will be from the books!"

Your enthusiasm seems to feed into his excitement, because suddenly he's talking a mile a minute, "Of course I didn't forget! You'll need to change, I have clothes for you to wear, and I was thinking we could conduct our lesson outside, since the weather is so lovely. And don't worry, I'll take things slowly with you, I promise you won't get hurt."

You can't help but giggle at his behavior, you try your best to stifle it, "That all sounds wonderful Adrian, I can't wait to begin."

He's grinning from ear to ear before he catches himself, covering his mouth and looking away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. He clears his throat and removes his hand, the grin has been replaced with a barely contained smile, "Let's finish eating first, shall we?"

This time you can't stop the giggle that bubbles forth, "You're allowed to get excited about things you know, you don't have to hide it."

His eyebrows shoot up and his blush returns with a vengeance, he looks away and mumbles, "I know…" before stuffing a particularly large bite of French Toast into his mouth.

You finish your meal in relative silence punctuated by an occasional giggle from you as Adrian's face burns a brighter shade of red.

Adrian stands, still not making eye contact, offering his arm, "Come to my room with me, I'll give you the clothes you need to wear today."

You take his arm and together make your way to his room. He releases your arm upon entering and approaches one of the large wardrobes, pulling open the doors and taking out a pair of black pants and a white tunic. He hands you the bundle and gestures towards the bathroom, "These should hopefully fit you. Once you change we can go downstairs to pick up the equipment."

You nod and leave for the bathroom, closing the door behind you. You lay out the shirt and pants on the vanity countertop, immediately you recognize them to be Adrian's. you blush at the thought of wearing his clothes, how intimate, and begin to remove your dress. The first problem you encounter is that your slip and bloomers are too fluffy to fit into the pants, so you are left bare underneath the pants. The second problem you encounter is that the tunic's collar is quite low-cut, the v of the collar dipping mid-breast, fully revealing your cleavage. The tunic is also quite long, reaching past your behind. For that matter even the pants had to be cuffed up so as to not pose as a tripping hazard. You put your boots back on, clutch the tunic's collar closed, and open the door.

Adrian snickers, "Having some trouble?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, it all fits me perfectly! I certainly don't look like I'm drowning in this tunic," you finish by sticking out your tongue. Laughing he turns and walks to the vanity, a moment later he's approaching you with a large brooch, "Perhaps this will help."

You take the brooch, a large silver crescent moon curled around a golden sun, and approach the vanity. Carefully you release the collar enough to thread the brooch through it, "ouch!" only to accidentally prick yourself.

You spin to face him, releasing the collar completely and sticking the injured digit in your mouth.

He takes in the sight before him, your cleavage completely revealed to him, the smell of your blood in the air, he shudders, gulps, and with a shaky voice asks, "Would you like some help?"

Distracted by the pain, your mind doesn't fully register the implications of his reaction, instead you nod, removing your finger from your mouth, replying sheepishly, "I'd appreciate it."

On unsteady legs he closes the distance between you, reaching for the brooch he lets his knuckles brush against your chest, soaking in the sight of your cleavage bared to him, two rosy rings just visible, before slowly fastening the pin, golden eyes half lidded, slowly drifting up to meet yours. And that's when it finally registers just how close you are, close enough to feel his breath coming out in shallow bursts, close enough that his knuckles probably feel the quickened beating of your heart, close enough to smell the blood pooling on the tip of your finger, and the warmth pooling between your legs. He runs his fingers up the collar to your neck, and then smooths the tunic across your shoulders, his hands heavy with his reluctance to break contact. You release a shuddering breath, lips parted, and his lips part in unconscious response. Your eyes drift to the mouth you so wish to let claim you, his fangs have elongated, but you don't recoil. One of his hands runs down your arm, gently grasping and raising your hand, appraising the injured finger.

Swallowing hard, your voice practically a whisper, "Can you take care of it for me?"

His eyes, now wide and bronze, shift from your finger to your lust lidded gaze, his thoughts are tumultuous and it shows on his face.

 _If I do this, if I take this first step, I know where it will lead… but is she ready for that?_

The small bead of blood finally spills over your finger, he takes a sharp breath, then pulling his sleeve over his hand, clasps your finger. A bit surprised by his choice, you look at him questioningly. He knows what it is you want to ask, so he answers, "The exchange of blood is both very dangerous, and very… intimate. Someday, if you're willing, we'll discuss it, but for now… I think we should wait."

You can't help but feel the disappointment of rejection, even though you understand his standpoint. You drop your gaze and nod your head in acknowledgement.

He releases your hand and instead moves to cup your face, raising it to meet his apologetic eyes, "Please don't misunderstand, I care very deeply for you, I even admit that I… I crave you, I yearn to be close to you. And it's undeniable that there is something between us, I know we both feel it. But… I want us to take things slowly. There is a lot about me you need to learn first, before we take this further, and it'll all happen in good time, but for now, please, just… just trust in me."

His confession leaves you speechless. There are so many things you wish to say to him, so many confessions of your own you want to make, but all that comes out, broken, whispered, is, "I trust you, Adrian."

His eyes slide closed, and in one fluid motion his arms are wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. All of the emotion pouring out of him overwhelms you, you bury your face into his chest and tightly wrap your own arms around his waist. The feeling of his toned body holding on to you so passionately is incredible and you sigh gently, feeling his body tremble in response.

His face is buried in your hair, but although muffled you swear you hear him whisper, "Thank you."

 _Thank you, little angel, for trusting this undeserving devil._

Slowly, reluctantly you release each other, but you don't back away. Adrian's face is mostly composed, although you can't say the same for your own.

"Let's get started, we wouldn't want the day to pass us by before we even get to have our first lesson," Adrian's small smile is sincere, you both need this distraction. You nod in response and he leads you out of his room, downstairs, to what appears to be a combat training room. He opens a wardrobe and removes various gear, bundling it up in his arms, before returning to you and leading you outside to the garden. He hands you a jacket, plastron, gloves, breeches, and a mask, "Watch as I put these items on, that way you can follow my lead. Do you understand now why your dress couldn't be worn with this?"

You nod and give a quick laugh, "I had a hard enough time putting on your clothes and keeping on just my undergarments, let alone all of this!"

He laughs at your retort, secretly already knowing that information to be true thanks to the view he was afforded earlier, and begins dressing in the gear. You do your best to follow along, and are rather successful, only requiring aid when it came time to put on the plastron. When you both finish he hands you a sword, "This is called a foil." You admire the long, thin, light-weight blade for a moment. He continues, "The object of fencing is to touch me, but only from the groin up, and excluding my arms." You ponder this for a second and reach out with your empty hand, poking him square in the chest. With a completely straight face you look him in the eyes and say, "I win." His mouth drops open, momentarily lost for words, causing a smile to curl your lips before you begin to laugh. He stutters, your little joke really did catch him off guard it seems, "Wha-? No, n-not… oh. Ohhh…" it all clicks together in his mind and he smirks, barely containing a laugh, "Good try but that's not what I mean by a touch. THIS-" he pokes you with the end of his foil right in the center of your chest, hard enough to force you to take a step back, "is a touch."

"Point made," you say with a scowl, rubbing the spot he just poked.

"We will start by learning three basic offensive moves: thrust, feint and lunge, and one defensive move: parry," he says as he steps away from you, backing up until there is a few feet between you, "Right foot forward, left back, chest facing front, right arm extended, left arm back," he says as he mirrors the movements he lists, "this is the stance you need to assume. Now, Êtes-vous prêts?"

You cock your head to the side, unsure of what he just said. He answers your confusion with a snicker and a smirk, "Are you ready?"

Your eyebrows raise in understanding before your expression slides into a smirk of your own, "I was born ready, baby!"

"First, you must thrust, aiming for my chest. Do it, thrust!"

You thrust once, but he easily dodges.

"Again, don't stop after just one thrust, lead me where you want me to go, this is called a feint. Go, again, thrust!"

Again you thrust, but again he dodges, so you thrust again, but again it is ineffective. Now he thrusts, you manage to dodge the first, but exactly where you moved to dodge is exactly where his next thrust lands.

"Do you see? That is a feint, I knew you would dodge the first, so I lead you where I wanted you to go," his smirk grows, "but don't become disheartened, this is only the beginning."

You grouse at his cocky attitude, it's only your first time! Of course you aren't an expert! You thrust again, three more times, he dodges two but the third he hits away with his foil, before thrusting at you, landing a hit.

"That was called a parry and a riposte, I blocked your weapon and then attacked. Again, let's continue."

You let out an exasperated breath before thrusting once more, of course he dodges, but this time when he thrusts you successfully parry his attack.

His expression is impressed, you feel pride in your small accomplishment, until he kicks his foot forward and launches himself a step towards you, poking you so hard in the stomach it knocks you on your ass.

"That was called a lunge," he says as he walks over to you, holding out his hand with that smirk on his face, you want to smack it right off with your sword. Instead, you swat his hand with your foil and rise on your own. Your spurning of his aid surprises him, but as you resume your position so does he. Now you're officially pissed, that arrogant bastard.

Again and again you thrust, he parries, you thrust, he parries, you thrust, he parries, he ripostes. You growl in frustration, his shit-eating grin grows wider, and again you thrust, you thrust, you thrust, he parries, parries, parries and lunges, and again you're on your ass. You punch a fist into the dirt but you stand back up, resuming your position. You thrust, he parries, he thrusts, you parry, you lunge, with all of your strength, and by the grace of God it lands.

"I DID IT!" you shout as you jump for joy, "I finally touched you!"

Adrian is in absolute shock, his hand covers the spot where your thrust landed, "It seems you have," he manages to say, the smugness gone. Suddenly a large grin spreads across his face, and a moment later you're lifted in his arms, he's spinning around and beaming up at you, "You did it! You did it, dearest! You touched me!"

"I did it!" you squeal, giggling like a child. When he puts you down his smile is warm, "I will be quite honest with you my dear, I didn't think you were going to be able to land a touch on me. I wasn't going easy on you. So the only other explanation I've come up with is that your beauty distracted me. I demand a rematch."

"You smug jerk!" you exclaim, slapping his arm, "Accept defeat with some grace!"

He snickers at you, placing a hand on his chest, "Me? Accept defeat? Never."

"Well then I guess today is a day of firsts for both of us!" you shout, retreating back to the house.

He trots after you, and together you return inside to deposit your gear. After removing and restoring the gear, you return to his room to change back into your clothes, quickly redressing. You then rejoin him in the kitchen where he's in the midst of placing kielbasa, cheese, bread and a bottle of red wine into a basket, "I thought that perhaps since our lesson ended early today and since there is still light outside, we could eat dinner in the garden."

"How lovely! I'd be happy to!" you reply cheerfully. He mirrors your smile, "Excellent, I have the perfect spot in mind."

You return together to the garden, and this time he leads you behind the flower section to a large weeping willow. Carefully he lays a blanket on the grass and removes his boots before stepping onto it, holding you steady as you remove your boots as well. He lays out the food he has packed and pours two glasses of wine, handing you one and raising his for a toast, "To a successful first week of lessons."

"Here's to many more," you add, smiling warmly at him as you clink glasses. He meets your gaze with eyes full of adoration.

"Noroc!" you say in unison before taking a sip.

Many laughs are shared, as is the delicious meal and the rich tasting wine. At some point Adrian moves to lean his back against the willow's trunk and you follow him, cozying up to his side, he drapes his arm over you and you continue to laugh together over each other's stories. The last story you remember him telling you was about some drunkard hunter he met a long time ago who could barely stand and smelled like a barnyard and yet he still managed to ensnare a very beautiful and educated woman. Adrian scoffed at the ridiculousness of the situation, but his tone was fond.

Three hours and one empty bottle of wine later, you fall asleep under the weeping willow in the crook of an enamored Dhampir's arm.

The next morning you awake in your bed, fully clothed but your boots removed, with a lily tucked behind your ear and a smile on your lips.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Your kind words never cease to bring me the utmost joy. Thank you, as usual, for the fantastic comments.

I'm sorry to say that this chapter has actually been completed for about three days, in its handwritten form that is (I hand write every chapter first before typing it up) but an extremely busy weekend kept me from being able to type it up. I hope it is worth the wait! This chapter offers a little bit of action, a new character introduction (I'm looking at you, LadyAstralofBlueRose!) and ends on a quite melancholic note. But never fear! Melancholy never lasts long in the Saviors story universe, ha! As usual, please enjoy.

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

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You had never felt more at peace in your entire life.

Four more days passed you by effortlessly, each one full of learning, cooperation, joy, comfortability, and an undeniable permeation of blossoming romance. True to his word, Adrian was reserved, but it was a strained resistance. You both ached for the other's touch, and the only thing keeping those feelings at bay was Adrian's behest: take this slowly. You knew it was a sound request, but that didn't help to quell your need. Adrian's confession a few days ago was a shared sentiment, even if you didn't explicitly state it at the time. You craved, you yearned, you pined for this man, this angelic, gentle, kind, cocky, funny, perfect man. This mysterious angel who had saved you, not only from your would-be attackers that fateful evening, but from the loneliness and rejection you had grown to accept. You could wait for eternity if he wished, this bliss was worth every second of it.

You were so lost in your own head that you didn't notice Adrian enter the kitchen behind you. You were in the midst of cracking eggs, sighing dreamily as you did, swaying your hips to a little melody you hummed softly, fantasizing about the man who, unbeknownst to you, stood not five feet behind you, watching your little display with keen interest, an honest smile on his lips and golden eyes full of adoration. There before him stood his salvation, swaying her hips to the song her heart produced for him, and it beckoned him with the promise of homecoming should he embrace it.

So he did.

He stepped up until his chest was a breath apart from you, reached forward, took your hands in his own, and lifted them, spinning you to face him. In your surprise your song was forgotten, replaced with the giggles his proximity coaxed. He assumed the position of a dance partner, one hand on your hip, the other clasping your slightly yolky hand. Tentatively you placed your other hand on his shoulder, and he began to lead you around the kitchen, humming a song of his own. You had danced before, but not like this, so you did your best to keep up, following his lead. His movements were inhumanly graceful. A few times you stepped on his foot, issuing forth an, "oo!" and a blush punctuated by another giggle, and at those moments he couldn't help letting a giggle of his own interrupt his song.

Finally, he dipped you, and as your head fell back he placed a sumptuous kiss on your neck, savoring the feel of your soft, warm skin against his lips, feeling your pulse quicken with want. Reluctantly he released you, taking a step back and bowing, "Thank you, my lady. T'was an honor to have a dance with you."

You curtsied, giggling, "The pleasure was all mine, my lord. Except I fear in the heat of the moment I've covered you in egg yolk."

"It was undoubtedly worth it," he replied, his warm smile coaxing your blush.

"Now then," he began, walking up to the counter space you had been occupying to prepare breakfast, "let's prepare our meal. For our History lesson today I would like to discuss the Ottoman Empire and Vlad the Impaler, which means we will need all of the time we can get. I know I can be quite long-winded on this subject, and sadly time is not on our side."

You were reminded then that this daydream, this fantasy, would soon end. It was already Friday, the thirteenth day of your stay, and in only two days you would be returning to your hometown. Adrian felt you deflate, his own smile slipping as he too ruminated over what was to come.

"When I return," you began, but Adrian cut you off, "When you return we will discuss our new meeting schedule. So don't worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today's trouble is enough for today."

Your eyes widen, "Matthew, chapter six, verse thirty-four. I didn't know you were familiar with The Bible."

He smirks, "My father was very religious when he was a young man. A few remnants of that time carried over."

You mull over the implication of what he's said, "Did he lose his faith?"

"Yes," he replied, turning away.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you say softly as you approach him, placing a tentative hand on his arm. He reaches up, laying his hand over yours, and glances over his shoulder at you, "Why do you believe?"

His question surprises you, but you already know your answer, "Finding your home in my hour of need was nothing short of a miracle. Only God could have brought me here, to you."

His hand tightly squeezes yours before lifting it to his lips for a kiss, "And we are both blessed for it."

A loud knock at the front door shook you both.

"Were you expecting visitors?" you ask.

"No, I don't get many of those," Adrian replied, immediately on guard. Swiftly Adrian exited the room and made his way to the front door with you hot on his heels.

"Stay back," he commanded, but you remained close, standing just behind him.

With a wave of his hand the large doors slowly swung open, revealing two men. They appeared to be in their thirties, one had shoulder length blonde hair, and the other…

You gasp.

"Back for more, Morris? Or have you finally come to your senses?" Adrian entreated the tall brunette.

"You're the one who's lost your senses, demon! And this time I brought backup to help me stop you!" John Morris brandished a chain-link whip, determination in his eyes.

In your shock at his reappearance you made your presence known, Morris spotting you behind Adrian.

"See!" Morris exclaimed to his companion, pointing at you, "Do you see now, Eric? Do you finally believe?"

The man's blonde companion, brandishing a large and ornate spear, stares at you disbelievingly before turning his attention to Adrian, "I would not believe it had I not seen it for myself. How could you, Alucard? After all you'd done to stop Dracula, you turn around and become him?"

This enrages Adrian, his golden eyes glowing red, "How dare you say such a thing! You invade my home, accuse and threaten me, endanger my guest, and all over an unfounded claim! You came to me looking for a fight? Then I will give you one!"

At this, Adrian leaps towards the two men, nails and fangs extended. Eric swings his spear, catching Adrian in his shoulder and knocking him off of his course. John cracks his whip, aiming for Adrian's trajectory, but Adrian ducks, landing on all fours. He holds out his hand and his sword flies to meet it, just in time too, it allows him to block the downward strike Eric's spear had aimed for him. Pushing the spear up and away, Adrian lunges forward, trying to catch Eric off-kilter, but John's whip cracks, catching the sword's blade. With a pull of the whip the sword has been wrenched from Adrian's hand. Eric punches Adrian in the face, causing him to stumble, and then uses the handle of the spear to knock him on his ass. He holds the spear in both hands and raises it above his head, ready to plunge it into Adrian's chest.

You scream, "NOOO!" clutching the sides of your face, tears forming.

Your outburst is enough to stay Eric's hand; he looks at you curiously, "Something isn't right here," he ponders aloud, "If she were his victim, why would she cry for him?"

John growls, "Because he has obviously enchanted her! And it seems he's enchanted YOU as well!" He cracks his whip, but Adrian has had just enough time to recover, and this time when the whip curls around his sword it is John who gets pulled, right into Adrian's fist. John flies backward, releasing the whip, which Adrian quickly flings across the room.

"Tell me, Alucard," Eric asks, his face sincere, "Is this human your victim, or your lover?"

His voice unwavering, he replies, "She is more than my lover, she is my world."

His words ring in your ears, sending a shiver down your spine, the mutuality of his sentiment is enough to push the tears past their brim.

Eric's eyes soften, he smiles, "It seems we have been quite mistaken. You _have_ become Dracula, just not in the way we feared."

Adrian smiled at this, his gaze shifting to you, to his salvation.

But this revelation had come too late.

With a loud crack Adrian was sent flying forward, the whip had caught him across his back. He landed with a thud, blood spurting from the wound.

An ear-piercing scream rips from your throat and you run to him, throwing yourself on top of him, protecting him, and you turn to face John who stands proud and smug, ready to deliver the final blow.

"Please!" you scream, you beg, tears streaming freely, "Please I beg of you, don't kill him!" You know your attempt to shield him is in vain, but you would rather die trying to protect him than just stand by and watch as he's mercilessly slaughtered.

Eric steps into John's path, shielding you both, spear aimed at him, "Enough, John! You have misunderstood the situation. The woman is not his victim, they are lovers! See for yourself how she cries for him!"

John seems to appraise the situation, "This woman… his lover? And the Vampire Killer didn't kill him… perhaps I have been mistaken…"

Adrian attempts to stand, at first faltering. You move off of him to instead crouch beside him, clutching his arm. Weakly he turns his head to face you and smiles, "Your t-tears are wasted, dearest, I'm f-fine. Luckily for us he is n-not a B-Belmont."

You don't understand what he means, but his forced bravado is not fooling you, you know he is gravely injured, but you cannot stop him. On hands and knees he trembles before slowly rising, turning to face John and Eric. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. His voice is firm, commanding, albeit wavering, "If you are both quite s-satisfied, I would ask you to take your leave."

Realizing the full weight of his transgressions and of what they could lead to in the future, John's face is full of regret, "My apologies, Alucard, I've made a terrible mistake."

Adrian nods, you feel him begin to shake.

Eric bows, but while his countenance is sincere, he smirks, "I too apologize, Alucard. But allow me to congratulate you, she is quite beautiful. Perhaps you both can join my wife and I for dinner in the near future. She is always bugging me about how she wants to go on double dates, as I'm sure your beloved does as well. Women!"

Eric rolls his eyes playfully, and gives you a wink. You blush and Adrian lets out a weak laugh, "I will be in touch, Eric. Farewell."

As the large doors shut behind them Adrian goes limp, falling to the floor.

"Adrian!" you shout as you fall to your knees, using all of your strength to turn him onto his back, propping his head up on your thighs. Weakly he opens his eyes to look at you, and slowly, painfully his hand comes up to caress your cheek, "I will be okay dearest. The whip is powerful, but it will only kill those who are evil, and only when wielded by a Belmont. I just need some time to recover, that's all."

You remembered your conversation from before, that blood could heal, "Drink my blood!" you exclaim, "You said blood could heal you, so please, drink my blood!"

His eyes turned serious, "No. That is out of the question."

"You, you stubborn mule!" You exclaim in frustration. Now is not the time for formalities! You look around, for anything that might suffice, and fortunately lying next to Adrian is his sword. You reach over him, grabbing the hilt, and running your palm along the blade. Immediately your blood begins to flow down your hand, the cut is quite deep. Adrian's eyes go wide, but before he can react you clamp your bleeding hand over his mouth.

His hands fly up to wrap around your wrist, feebly attempting to pull your hand away, but it isn't long before his bloodlust takes hold. You feel his tongue slowly lapping at the wound, and a moment later your positions have swapped, red eyes now loomed over you, his hands firmly holding your palm to his mouth as he continued to drink. His legs straddled your hips, his long wavy locks tickled your cheeks. He leaned closer, until your nose was just barely touching his. His forearms rested lightly on your breasts, and his hips began to grind against yours, his arousal becoming evident.

Overwhelmed, your brain barely processed what was transpiring, it all happened too fast to comprehend. One minute he was on the floor, barely conscious and bleeding out, the next he was on top of you, eyes full of lust, seeking to take all that you had to give. Your free hand reached for his face, wanting to caress his cheek, wanting to quell the hunger in his features, but he grabbed your wrist and pinned it above your head. You gasped and sighed, your feelings conflicted, both lusting after and frightened by that hunger. His grinding increased in speed, the friction and your own arousal causing immense warmth to grow where your hips met, all while he continued to lap and suck feverishly at your blood. Your eyelids began to flutter, finally overwhelmed by both the loss of blood and the fervor with which he assaulted your senses.

His blood red eyes widened, seeming to snap back to reality at the feeling of your dulling senses, and quickly he released your hands, removing himself from your lap and instead pulling you into his arms, cradling you. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, this is exactly what I feared. Please dearest, look at me, open your eyes my love, please look at me!" Adrian's voice was desperate.

Slowly, with much effort, you opened your heavy eyelids to gaze at your beloved. I'm fine, you tried to say, but nothing came out, and the last thing you remember seeing are his devastated red eyes before you slipped off into peaceful oblivion.


	11. Chapter 11

I swear that Chapter 12 will be happy! But hey, every couple has to face a few obstacles in order to strengthen their bond, am I right?

I apologize for the delay getting this chapter out, between a convention and the holidays I was a tad bit busy! But I hope this melancholy was worth the wait lol.

* * *

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

* * *

You're standing on a balcony, the sun set long ago, all that's left to light the sky are millions of brilliantly twinkling stars. You gaze at their beauty and sigh, what a perfect sight. You hear footsteps approaching you from behind, so you turn around to face your companion. You greet him with a smile and saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He's smirking at you, resting his hands on your hips.

"You must be parched," he whispers seductively, "Why not take a drink?"

You lean in to him, lips grazing his neck, the whisper of a kiss, just before your fangs sink into his flesh.

You awaken with a jolt, eyes flying open and hands gripping the sheets. Disoriented, your eyes scan your surroundings frantically, attempting to understand both where you are and how you'd gotten there. The soft perfume of flowers reaches your nose, and you quickly ascertain the source. You're surrounded by bouquets of flowers: lilies, roses, daisies, tulips; all in crystal vases each more beautiful than the last, covering every inch of table surface in the room. Your room. You realize you're in your room, alone. You attempt to sit up, but it proves to be difficult, your limbs are cold, heavy, you struggle to operate them. As you slowly rise from the covers you look down at yourself. No longer are you wearing the blue frock you had remembered last dressing in, instead you find your eyes appraising a gorgeous silk and lace nightgown, thin lace straps caress the bare skin of your shoulders. A chill runs up your spine and you raise your hands to your face, inspecting your palms, running your fingers over the unblemished surfaces, finally remembering what put you in this state.

But not a trace remains, not even the scar that should be where the blade sliced you.

Adrian, your mind flashes back, those devastated red eyes pleading with you, his strong arms cradling you so gently, as if you were a broken bird. So foolish, that was so foolish of you, all you wanted to do was help, but you only made things worse. He must be angry, after how blatantly you disrespected his wishes. And yet… the flowers, the nightgown, would he be so doting if he were truly angry?

Deep in the bowels of the castle, Adrian awakens at the feeling of you stirring, and exhales in relief, _I should go check on her, she'll be weak, she'll need my assistance._ But closing his eyes with a sigh, he remains where he is, _no… it'll be better this way, safer. There can be no more risks._ Pushing himself from his coffin, feeling the full weight of his guilt pressing down on him heavily, Adrian leaves for the kitchen.

With incredible effort you rise from your bed on unsteady feet. Glancing out the window you see that the sun has already set, clarifying two things for you: one being that you must've been asleep for a few hours, the other being that Adrian is probably in the kitchen making dinner. You set your course for the kitchen, first opening the wardrobe in search of a robe you can slip on, you're still too weak to change your clothes, but you can't go traipsing around the castle in a thin slip of silk either. Sure enough, a beautiful robe of matching silk and lace hangs before you, you carefully slip it on and shuffle to the door. It takes you much longer than usual, having to stop frequently, propping yourself against the wall every time your head spins, but eventually you arrive in the kitchen, only to find it empty.

With a frown you scan the room, eyes coming to rest on a tray of cookies and a pitcher of orange juice that have been set out on the counter. You approach the offering tentatively, taking a cookie only after your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead. It's delicious, the sugar immediately perking you up, and without thinking you take another, eating it eagerly. Four cookies later you pour yourself a glass of the orange juice, drinking the contents as quickly as you ate the four cookies, and pour yourself a second glass. Vaguely you chastise yourself for ruining your appetite for dinner, but the cookies and orange juice are making you feel so much better that you just can't stop yourself.

After a while your legs are no longer trembling and your arms no longer feel too heavy, and that's when you wonder again, where's Adrian? Now on more confident legs you begin to roam the castle, searching every room you're familiar with, but no luck; Adrian is nowhere to be found. With a sigh you return to the study, crumpling onto the couch. Perhaps he's busy, perhaps he'll come find you once he's done. You should just wait here for him, he'll come find you when he's done, but your chest is aching, and you shake your head, trying to lose the thought you don't want to acknowledge, he'll come find you when he's done, but a tear slips down your cheek because maybe you were right after all, and before long you're asleep again, curled up on the couch with wet cheeks.

Streams of warm sunlight stir you from your slumber and you open your eyes. You're back in your room, tucked safely under the covers, surrounded by even more flowers than you were the night before. On the bedside table beside you sits the tray of cookies, replenished, and another pitcher of orange juice. You roll over and clutch the pillow, burying your face, and begin to cry.

It's clear that your fear has been confirmed: he's avoiding you. Your body trembles and heaves with each sob, your heart aching for the damage you've done. He'll never trust you again. He explicitly stated he didn't want to drink your blood, that he didn't think you were both ready for that step, but rather than honor his wishes you forced yourself upon him, and now, he doesn't want to be anywhere near you. And why should he be? Clearly he can't trust you. Your guilt consumes you, pouring out of your eyes and soaking your pillow, drowning your moans.

Somewhere within the castle, Adrian clutches his chest, a tear rolling down his cheek, _This is for the best,_ he reminds himself, but his conviction wavers with each of your trembling sobs.

Eventually your tears run dry, your body exhausted from the exertion, and so you decide to soak in the bath for a while to help collect yourself. The hot water is indeed soothing, but it doesn't sooth your tumultuous heart.

When you exit the bathroom you spot a sealed letter resting on your pillow. Suddenly the world is crashing down upon you once more, you approach the letter with utter dread, knowing exactly what awaits you.

With trembling hands you pick up the letter, breaking the seal and unsheathing the note within.

 _My Dearest,_

 _It has been an honor to be your teacher, but it is in your best interest that we no longer meet. I cannot guarantee your safety, and am therefore unfit to continue your lessons further. Fortuitously for you, today is Sunday, and therefore the last day of your stay. I have prepared a horse and carriage for you, they await you in front of the castle, along with food and drink for your trip. Take with you whatever you would like, be it books, equipment, dresses, or even jewelry, any of it is yours if you wish it. But if you will take nothing else, then all I ask is that you please remember me fondly, not as a monster, but rather as a man._

 _Truly Yours,_

 _Adrian Farenheit Tepes_

Fresh tears stained the paper, and without realizing you begin to call out his name, running out into the hallway and pleading it, pleading for him.

But no one answers, no one comes, and you fall to your knees clutching the dagger that sliced your heart in two, holding it close to the organ it has laid waste to.

He feels his heart breaking, shattering, splintering in his chest at each cry of his name from your lips, but he knows this is what's best. If he ever hurt you again, if he ever… his mind can't even fathom the other outcome. He can never forgive himself for what he's done. He truly is a monster, it was a fantasy to think he could be with a human woman, and this is the only way to guarantee he'll never snuff out your brilliant light, never quell your warm summer breeze, his Summer Breeze… no, no longer his. Never his to begin with. He slams his fist into the wall and lets out a shuttering breath, overcome with grief.

You collect your belongings and decide to take a few of the lilies, pressing them inside one of your books. While his offer was generous, you've already done enough damage, and therefore couldn't possibly dream of taking anything else. The lilies and the memories they'll hold will be more than enough.

Making your way to the large front doors one last time, you turn around and gaze once more at the large stone staircase, recalling your first meeting with Adrian, hoping against hope that maybe you'd catch one last glimpse of him.

But the hall is empty, just like you are, and exhaling a shaky breath you leave the castle, circumventing the carriage and instead heading home on foot.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I am, as always, my usual happy self, but I am definitely in a weird/torn/confused headspace lately, so I apologize for how melancholic these last two chapters have been. Once again, thank you for the positive feedback and the patience. Between the two fanfiction sites that I post this story on (AO3: Contesa_lui_Alucard), I received more comments on the last chapter than on any other chapter prior! And it was mostly cries of outrage! Lol! Again, apologies, this chapter will have a happy ending, I refuse to drag out this sadness any longer.

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

* * *

The walk home had seemed so much shorter the last time you had made this journey. Suddenly 12 miles seemed like 30, and your legs dragged in response, the distance feeling unfathomable. You tried to block out your thoughts, repress the creeping sorrow, but it edged at the corners of your mind, begging to envelope you. He couldn't face you, not even to say goodbye. Did you deserve any better though? Did you deserve to see that angelic beauty one last time? No, you forfeited your right the minute you broke his trust, you're lucky he didn't toss you out of the castle immediately after you'd done it.

You replayed the fateful events in your mind for what must have been the umpteenth time, recalling the way he looked as he lapped at your wound, the way his hips ground into yours, the need you felt radiating off of him, and the want you radiated in response. If you hadn't fainted, would he have fucked you right there on the foyer floor? Or would he… would he have drank you dry? No, never, he could never hurt you. You hurt yourself, that situation was your own fault, you deserved your fate.

By some miracle the miles did in fact pass, you recognized a landmark tree that signaled you had only one mile remaining. You were bordering on dehydration, but you knew you could make it. You did your best to compose yourself, to put on a brave face for your return home, but it was difficult to say the least.

At length you spotted your family home, and with one last deep breath you trained your face into a mask of composure. As you opened your front door you were greeted cheerfully by your parents, eager to hear all about your studies with the mysterious and handsome count. You cordially dismissed them, telling them how the journey had really wiped you out, and that you'd be happy to tell them all about it at supper tomorrow evening. They didn't put up a fight, and so you pressed onward to your room, shutting the door behind you and collapsing against it. You gave one last heaving breath, trying your hardest to be silent, before crawling to your bed and burying your face in your pillow. You trembled all over, your heart raced, your mind was in utter panic, and you gripped the pillow with all of your remaining strength. Finally, the anxiety attack passed, and the exhaustion settled, allowing your body to drift off to sleep.

Bright and early the next morning, your mother is knocking at the door, "Are you awake? School starts in an hour, you know! You're going to be late!"

Your eyes fly open at her words and you leap from the bed, "I'm up! I'll be ready in a minute!" You race around the room changing out of yesterday's clothes and instead donning one of your work dresses. Running a brush through your hair you sweep it up into a bun before running down the hall to the washroom. After brushing your teeth and splashing some water on your face, you're on your way, shouting goodbyes as you run out the door.

The convent comes into view and you breathe a sigh of relief, you've made it in plenty of time. You see one of the sisters outside the front gates greeting the children and greet her in response, sharing quick hellos with some of the children you're familiar with. Everyone is smiling, happy, excited to be back, and you're swept up in the current. You make your way to your classroom, tidying things up before the children arrive, setting out their books and arranging your things on your desk. It isn't long before your students begin to trickle in, excitedly chatting about their summer breaks both to each other and to you. The school day begins and it doesn't stop, and you're so caught up that not once are you permitted a moment to think about… him.

But he is thinking about you.

Back in the castle, Adrian slowly strides towards your former room, his face solemn, his hand trailing the wall. When he reaches it, he swings the door open, takes a breath, and steps inside. The room is still overflowing with flowers, and it reminds him of a funeral, which seems fitting. A funeral for his love. With great effort he approaches the bed, taking a seat on the edge, and drops his face into his hands. Tears freely roll down his cheeks as he mourns his loss, reminding himself once more that you were never meant to be his, you were never meant to belong to a monster. But then why does his heart feel so fragile, so human at this moment?

He lifts his face to glance at the floral shrine and his eyes come to rest on the vase that contained the lilies, noticing that a few are missing. _I offer for you to take anything you could possibly want, and you settle on a few lilies?_ He thinks wryly, _How… how like you. You offered me everything you had to give, and I took freely. I offer you everything of mine, and you leave with a few measly flowers. Why?_ He stands, approaching the vase of lilies, and delicately lifts one up to his nose, closing his eyes and sniffing deeply. He sees your face lighting up at the sight of the lily patch, and your blush when he told you how the patch came to be. How beautiful you looked as you slept peacefully against his chest under the weeping willow that night. He'd lightly run his fingertips over the curves of your face, your jaw, your neck. He'd carded his fingers through your wonderfully soft hair, lifting a lock to his lips, letting it tickle him as he took in the scent. He had stayed there with you curled into him, mapping and memorizing your features, for several hours, only moving when he knew sunrise would shortly come. When he did finally lift you, he cradled you close to him, taking his time returning you to your room. As he'd crossed the threshold of your door, he imagined you as his blushing bride, and so in order to add a touch of white to further propel his fantasy, he plucked one of the lilies from the vase in your room and placed it in your hair, marveling at how perfectly it complimented you. Gently he'd lowered you onto your bed, carefully removing your boots, and tucked you in, placing a lingering goodnight kiss on your forehead.

As his eyes open once more he gazes at the lily he holds, still imagining it tucked behind your ear, and realizes why it was the only thing you took.

In a fury he throws the lily onto the bed and storms from the room, breaking whatever is within his reach as he stalks down the hallway. Only one thought is running through his mind now, and it's screaming, it's pounding, _She loves you. She loves you! She loves YOU! She LOVES YOU! SHE LOVES YOU!_ "I KNOW!" he screams in response, sending his fist flying through the wall. More punches follow, pulverizing plaster as once more he feels your heart calling out to him, even if it's many miles away, the call is as clear as a bell, a wind chime, his Summer Breeze is playing her wind chime for him and it's destroying him, because all he wants to do is burst forth from this tomb of his and get you, grab you, embrace you, confess that he loves you too and beg you to take him, please have him, please let him have you.

But he can't, he won't, he's not going to be the cause of your death.

And so he destroys the walls of his tomb with his frustrated fists, while his heart screams in agony.

The day had passed in a whirlwind, and before you realized what was happening you were sitting at your desk in your empty classroom, head in your hands as once more you were overwhelmed with thoughts of him. You did your best to compose yourself before moving to leave, bidding farewells to everyone you passed as you made your way home. As expected, when you arrived your parents awaited your return with bated breath, eager to hear all about your two week stay. You did your best to maintain your composure as you recounted your tales, leaving out your run-ins with John Morris and Eric Lecarde of course, as well as Adrian's… mixed heritage. Your parents marveled at everything you shared, your mom remarking, "I can't wait to see Adrian again so I can thank him for this kindness he's performed for you! It sounds like you truly had an excellent experience!" You winced at the unknown truth of her statement.

You retired for the evening, once again collapsing against your closed door and crawling to your bed, wondering if you'd ever truly move on, or if your heart was permanently broken.

The week proceeded in much the same fashion. Every morning you dragged yourself out of bed, went through the motions at school, made your way home, put on a brave face for your parents, and then broke down before bed.

Every night before you went to bed, Adrian punched another hole in the wall, broke another lamp, smashed another vase. Tonight he'd made his way into the study, pausing at a painting of his beautiful mother, dressed in royal purple and cradling lilies. Now that he stopped to think about it, the castle was beginning to look like it did back then… back when he… after his mother… was this really for the best? His father hadn't killed his mother, humans did. Humans had burned her at the stake, having accused her of witchcraft. His father… his father had lived peacefully with her for twenty years. His father had married her, conceived a child with her, and raised a son with her, raised him… half a human. All without incident. How had he managed?

He looked around the study, much unchanged since it belonged to his father, and imagined him sitting in the high-backed chair that still stood in front of the fireplace. "How did you do it?" Adrian asked the ghost of his imagination, eyes pleading, "How did you keep her safe? How did you resist those terrible urges? And why aren't you here now to teach me?" Tears rolled down his cheeks as he begged the phantom of his father for answers, but his response did not come in words. He remembered, one night, while his mother escorted him to bed, they passed this study on their way. _Father was sitting in his high backed chair and looked to mother as she came to stop in the doorway. Father's eyes always seemed to light up when they gazed upon mother, and this night had been no exception. He'd stood from his chair and approached her, but mother met him halfway, and without saying a word they'd embraced in a kiss. When father pulled away I'd heard him whisper, "Yes, my love," but mother hadn't said a word. Afterwards she took me to bed._

And that's when it clicked.

His mother had indeed not said a word, because she didn't have to. A true blood bond made a vampire completely privy to one's thoughts. _Father must have drank from mother, both deeply and frequently enough to create a blood bond, and yet she lived, healthy and happy. He hadn't harmed her or killed her, he'd stopped himself… much like how I'd stopped myself as well. Perhaps… the control I fear I lack, isn't connected to my self-control at all. I think it's connected to… my love. Father… it was your immense love for my mother that kept her safe from you, wasn't it. You could never harm her, never imagine life without her, and that's what stopped you. That's what always stopped you. I think I finally understand._

Adrian took one last look at the portrait of his mother and smiled, "It seems you and father are still taking me to school, even after all of these years."

And with that, Adrian hurried from the castle, transforming into a wolf and galloping towards town.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Here comes the happy! I promised an end to the melancholy, and boy have I delivered! I'm still in an odd headspace, but I sincerely appreciate your concern. Don't fret for me too much though, I'll live to tell the tale, I promise lol. This chapter was an absolute self-insert moment for me, this is the little cloud of fluff that I sincerely need in my life at the moment. I hope it can be that for you, dear reader, as well.

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

* * *

Exhaustion permeated every fiber of your being, it was unrelenting. You dragged your lead limbs to your bed and dumped yourself on top, shutting your eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. You still hadn't spoken to Headmistress Christina, the bustle of the first week of school had effectively kept her busy, but you knew it wouldn't be long before she wanted to speak about your time with Adrian. You tried to formulate what you would say, but you knew regardless she would assume she had been right about him and his intentions. The thought angered you, especially considering the truth of the situation, so you decided to push that problem off for now, your brain was swimming with enough other issues at the moment. You thought instead about all of the things you never got the chance to ask him. You were still so curious about his Dhampirism, and about his interests, how he spends his free time, and what his parents were like, both with each other and with him. You're both "only" children, and you're both academics, what else might you have in common? You felt you both knew him deeply and yet didn't know him at all. What was his favorite color? His favorite food? His favorite book? You really didn't know him after all, did you. Shame on you for never asking, for never taking the time to learn. No wonder things went the way they did, you've been nothing but selfish.

"My favorite color is green," a velvety voice spoke from the foot of your bed, "and I would have to say my favorite dish is Sarmale, stuffed cabbage, I still have my mother's recipe. Have you ever had Sarmale? It's quite good. In Norway they call it Kälruletter, in Poland it's Gotąbki, you might have had something similar before, stuffed cabbage is a rather universal Northern and Eastern European dish."

You must be hallucinating, you finally lost your mind, you've made yourself so insane with grief that you're now imagining you hear his voice. Hesitant, afraid of what you might see, or rather not see, you slowly open your eyes. There stood Adrian, absolutely radiant, smiling softly at you. You felt like the Virgin Mary being greeted by the Angel Gabriel, all glory and honor, and all you could do was gape in shock.

Slowly you sat up, "Adrian?" you questioned softly, afraid to shatter this vision.

"Hello dearest," he replied, his smile now beaming at you.

Overwhelmed, your hands come up to cover your mouth and you begin to cry, "I'm sorry," you choke out, "I'm so sorry for what I did."

Adrian didn't say a word, he just stood there smiling, before opening his arms to you.

On shaking legs you got up on your knees and shuffled to the foot of your bed, tears streaming, hands clasped over your mouth.

When you were finally within arm's reach you peered up at him with blurry eyes. He closed the distance between you with an embrace, lifting you off of the bed so you could stand in front of him. You buried your face in his chest and snaked your arms around his shoulders. He nuzzled the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around your waist. The tears wouldn't stop, your body trembled with each racking sob, the relief of his return pouring out of you like a torrential rain.

Your relief washed over Adrian, he could feel your grief and guilt ebbing at his touch. At first soft, but steadily becoming more prominent, he felt a new emotion emerging from you. It was as if he could feel your heart stitching itself back together, and as the organ became whole once more, the emotion fully emerged: love. The warmth of it spread throughout your entire body, seeping through his skin where you touched. Adrian drew his head back to gaze at you, eyes full of complete adoration.

 _She needs to know, so that we may never misunderstand again._

"I love you," Adrian declared, bright smile beaming.

Your eyes widen at his confession, followed swiftly by fresh tears, which trickle into your broad smile, "I love you too, Adrian," you manage to choke out.

One of his hands comes up to cup your face, "I know you do dearest, and I am blessed for it, saved by it, born anew from it."

He raises your face to meet his and your lips meet, you exchange a heavy kiss laden with your mutual love. Reluctantly he breaks the kiss, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks, wiping the tears away. He pushes your hair back from your face and with his voice barely above a whisper he smiles and says, "Let's go home."

All you can do is smile and nod, and without another word Adrian lifts you into his arms and approaches your bedroom window.

"Wait," you look to him with concern, "We have to tell my parents."

"I already did," he smirks at you, while he steps onto the window sill.

You continue to look at him with concern, is he going to jump from this height?

Reading your thoughts he responds, "You wanted to know more about my Dhampirism, correct?"

You nod, still unsure of where he was going with this.

"Well then you're in luck. I hope you aren't afraid of heights," his smirk grows as your heart begins to beat a little faster in fear, and your hands clutch the fabric of his jacket.

With a chuckle he leaps from the window, except the drop you expect to feel never comes. When you finally muster the courage to open your eyes, all you can see around Adrian is the sky. With a gasp you realize, you're flying!

"Well this is certainly a surprise!" you manage to squeak, "What else can you do?"

His smirk is so devious, the corners of his lips are practically curling, like the cat who's just eaten the canary. You immediately regret asking.

Poof! Flapping in front of you is a bat of considerable size. Two aspects of the situation concern you, why aren't you falling, and is that bat really Adrian?

"Aside from being able to levitate my own body, I can also control other things, I can call items to me, I can make them float, I can push them away," the bat explained, "which is why you haven't fallen. And yes," poof! "The bat really was me," Adrian finished, no longer a bat, and once again holding you close to his chest.

"Can you become other animals, or only a bat?" you wonder, that whole superstition about vampires becoming bats is true after all, it seems!

He chuckles again, "I can become other animals, yes. That superstition is in fact false. I actually traveled to come collect you as a wolf."

"A wolf!" you exclaim, "I had actually pegged you as more of a cat person," you return his smirk.

He laughs at your little quip, "I am full of surprises dearest, just you wait and see."

"You know," you continue to press, overjoyed to be able to slip back into your report with Adrian, "I wish you had revealed this ability a little sooner… our feet will be much less tired if we travel the four miles in this fashion rather than by walking. This ability could have really saved us a lot of trouble the first time we made this journey together."

"Ahh yes, you're not wrong," he is quite clearly equally as pleased to participate, "but walking really gave us the chance to get to know each other, did it not? Was my company not suitable?"

"It was quite suitable, but there's also nothing wrong with getting to know each other while seated in the study over a glass of wine," you grouse.

"You're not wrong," he conceded, "but wasn't saving it for this moment more dramatic?"

You cannot help but laugh at his cheeky response, "Remind me again why I missed you!"

As the castle finally came into view, he answered, "because when you left, half of your heart stayed behind, right here," he tapped a finger on his chest, eyes sincere, "but now that you've returned, we can both be whole again."

You felt the tears welling, but you bit them back, nodding in agreement so as to not hear your voice crack with the emotion that was begging to spill forth from you. He's right, you thought, I'm whole again, I'm exactly where I belong, I'm home, I'm finally home.

"Welcome home, dearest."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I'M SO SORRY! Between the holidays and con crunch I have been incredibly busy, but I swore to myself that I'd publish my next chapter before hitting the one month mark. And so here we are!

This is pure, unadulterated fluff. My gift to all of you for having to wait for so long. I also have a whole bunch of comments I have to answer still.. I promise I will, you know how much I treasure your comments. But first things first, I wanted to get this chapter out to you!

I hope, as always, that you enjoy!

I own neither Castlevania nor it's characters.

You entered through the front doors of the castle hand in hand, the enormous doors quietly shutting behind you as you made your way across the front hall.

"Perhaps a bite to eat is in order. Are you feeling peckish? I could certainly go for something… sweet. What do you say?" Adrian's inquisitive gaze fixated on your upturned face, you nodded, "I would like that, yes."

"Wonderful, then it's settled, to the kitchen we go," Adrian smiled, squeezing your hand lightly as he directed you towards your newly determined destination. You followed without hesitation, Adrian could have lead you to the gallows for all you cared, you were just happy to be back in his thrall.

As you walked through the halls you couldn't help but sigh, it was nothing short of a relief to once again be traversing this path. Adrian heard the soft sound you produced and squeezed your hand in response, "Everything feels… right, now that you're back. I feel as if I am at peace. I thought I was doing the right thing by you, but instead of sparing one life, I ended two."

Your eyes widened at his admittance, your surprised gaze locking onto his golden pools of serenity. His expression was wracked with guilt, brows knit together and lips pressed into a tight line. You stopped walking, turning instead to face him, and raised your hand to his face, smoothing your palm along his cheek. He leaned into your touch, brows slowly unknitting as his eyes closed, but only for a brief moment before they were back on you, searching your face for forgiveness.

Your mind processed his words, spare your life?

"I trust you implicitly, Adrian. I know you would never hurt me. Not now, not ever," you spoke with gravity, hoping the earnesty behind your words would carry. But instead of relief, his face crumpled, "But, I did… I hurt you terribly. You slept for nearly three days, I truly feared that you might never wake…" his free hand moved to take yours, and both of your hands were raised to rest against his chest, "I would never set out to do you harm, but… sometimes I have urges that I cannot always control, and those urges can cause me to do… regrettable things."

"But you stopped," you insist, "you didn't kill me. You acknowledged that your actions were harmful and you stopped. I'm still here, aren't I? If anyone is to blame for not controlling their urges, it's me."

But Adrian just shook his head, "For all of the time I have spent alive on this Earth, I should be able to control my urges by now, even the urges brought on by actions such as yours. My father aided my mother in my delivery, yet a small cut drove me to insanity. It's unacceptable. I have… a lot of work to do still. And it's quite reckless of me to endanger you in the process."

Your heart stopped, had he changed his mind? Would he send you away again? Please, anything but that, you readied your pleas but he spoke before you could open your mouth, "But, simply put, I cannot live without you. It's selfish of me, to endanger you for my own personal gain, I know this, and I apologize, but it's unavoidable."

You exhaled heavily as the weight of his words sunk into your chest, and with the hands he still held against his chest you pushed him. Not hard to hurt him, or even budge him, but enough to confuse him.

"Must you be so dramatic? You nearly killed me that time!" you grouse, scowling at him.

Your reaction has him caught completely off guard, and despite himself he chuckles, "Dramatic? Please, if you think I'm dramatic you should've met my father. But regardless, I apologize, I'm holding up our meal. Let us proceed on our course, shall we?"

Your scowl fades into a smile, "Yes, let us proceed. I'm curious as to what you have in store for us to dine on this evening," and with that your journey to the kitchen resumes.

As you cross the great dining hall Adrian begins to recount his meal plans, "The hour is late, so it simply won't do to try and prepare anything too intricate. With that being said, I thought perhaps French Toast with a side of ice cream would be acceptable. A nice combination of sweet, savory and filling. What do you think?"

You look at him thoughtfully, "Perfect, that's perfect Adrian, French Toast is exactly what we need right now." Honestly, he could have suggested anything, anything at all, any of it would have been perfect, as long as it were made by his hands.

He nodded triumphantly, "Excellent, it's settled then," by now you had reached the kitchen, and Adrian rolled his sleeves as he finished his thought, "let us begin!"

A flurry of blurred movements passed before your eyes, and within moments Adrian had everything he needed laid out in front of him, "I'll focus on the toast, what I need from you is the ice cream. Collect the sugar, cream, vanilla extract and salt. Combine it in a large jar and shake it vigorously. Then store it deep in the ice box. Do you think you can handle that?"

You smirked, "Aye, aye, captain!" and with that, each of you set to your tasks.

In between combining your ingredients you often caught Adrian's eyes on you, unabashed gazes that lingered on your eyes, your lips, your hands. You reciprocated them with your own longing looks, rememorizing the angelic face you had come to hold so dear.

It wasn't long before your dinner was being artfully plated and carried out to the dining hall's great table.

"One last thing," Adrian mentioned as he set down the plates, "Sit, I'll be back momentarily."

True to his word, a few moments later he returned with two steaming mugs, handing you one as he approached. You leaned in and sniffed the amber maroon mixture, it smelled of wine and spices.

"What is this?" you asked, taking a deeper whiff this time, enjoying the aroma of the spices.

"Vin Fiert," he replied, "Hot mulled wine. Every country has their own version, all very similar, this just happens to be Romania's entry. It's especially pleasant in the winter months. Go ahead, take a sip, tell me what you think."

You raise your mug to him, "Let's toast first."

He smiles at your proposition, "Of course, let's toast. What would you like to toast to?"

You sit quietly for a moment, thoughtful, before finally speaking up, "To sharing a blessed home, full of love and happiness."

"To you, then," Adrian responded, expression dreamy, sentimental, "for having blessed my home."

You melted at the sentiment, "and to you, for having invited me in."

He nodded, his smile turning playful, "Indeed. Noroc!"

"Noroc!" you chimed in, taking a careful sip of the steaming beverage. It was delightful, but quite strong, better sip that one slowly…

Adrian watched your face as you swallowed your sip, that playful smile still stretched across his lips, "Do you like it?"

"I do! It's delicious, the spices are lovely, but…" here you paused, eyes crossing as you felt the sting of alcohol sliding down your chest. Instead, Adrian finished for you with a chuckle, "but strong."

"Yes!" you spout, only causing his chuckle to deepen, "should I be concerned that you cannot hold your liquor?"

"Absolutely not!" you exclaim, offended, "I just wasn't expecting it is all. And I haven't eaten much lately, and you know it's bad to drink on an empty stomach!"

At this his eyes traced your figure, taking in the visible weight loss you had experienced since he saw you last, "I noticed. There will be no more of that now though, eat up. Poftă bună!"

You raised your eyebrows at his distaste before quickly becoming embarrassed, instead deciding eating would be your best way to hide your shame at his discovery. He, as usual, did not disappoint, the food was absolutely delicious. Even your contribution, the ice cream, was quite nice, fluffy, creamy, just sweet enough. It wasn't long before both of your plates were empty, and your dinners were being washed down with more Vin Fiert. With each sip you took it became easier to swallow, the burn of both the alcohol and the temperature seemed to lessen.

Your eyes were drooping closed by the time you reached the bottom of the mug.

At this, Adrian paused his questions about your first week back at work to instead smirk at your drowsiness, "It seems the exciting evening we've had has taken its toll on you. Shall I escort you to bed?"

You nod, your head feeling ten times heavier than it should, "Yes, please," was all you could manage to tumble out of your lips.

With an amused snort, Adrian stood, guiding you to stand as well, and lifted you in his arms.

You were asleep before he even reached the Dining Hall doors.

Adrian dutifully put you to bed, removing your shoes and tucking you under the covers. He admired his work before placing a soft kiss on your forehead, lingering to inhale your familiar scent. With a content sigh and one last look, he left you to sleep, and made his way to his own room.

Everything was as it should be.


	15. Chapter 15

SMUT WARNING!

This gets dirty, not penetration dirty, but dirty. I felt that, after 15 chapters, something, SOMETHING had to happen. I hope you enjoy, and I apologize for the wait.

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

* * *

The sun's rays settled on your face, gently warming your skin with their radiance. Not yet ready to open your eyes, you stretched like a content cat, sighing in delight and readjusting the bed covers. you thought, as always, of Adrian, picturing him in your mind's eye, eager to once again be in his presence. You roll onto your side, gathering the will needed to rise from your comfortable nest, spurred by the desire to make your mind's eye a reality. Stretching once more for good measure, your eyes finally flutter open, greeted by the sight of a beautiful bouquet of lilies sitting atop your bedside table. Your smile is uncontainable at his thoughtful gesture, and you vow to return the favor. The lilies are more than enough to finally carry you from the comfortable clutches of the bed, and so you rise to your feet contentedly.

You shuffle over to the wardrobe, peering inside of it for something nice to wear. You decide that the occasion is a special one, this is the reunion you had been waiting for after all, and therefore calls for a little extra care and consideration to be taken with one's appearance. You spot it then, the plum shade of the cotton a beautiful contrast to its lavender trimmed sleeves and neckline. Gently you pull it from the wardrobe, the fitted bodice, empire waist, flared skirt and square neckline make it clear that the dress is old, created in a style that wasn't often seen anymore, but it called to you. Carefully you laid it on the bed, inspecting it for any signs of damage, not wanting to ruin it by wearing it. The dress was immaculate though, and so you resolved to don it.

You washed with ceremony, carefully cleaning yourself to immaculacy. You hair was left loose. You dressed in your chosen garment slowly, watching your actions in the mirror, until your reflection displayed the perfection you had been aiming for. With a satisfied smile you left the room, seeking out the subject of your desires.

Something tickled at the back of your mind, something that told you you would find him in the study. Your instinct had been to travel to the kitchen, your usual morning meeting place, but you decided to appease this nagging feeling and upon arriving at the study found yourself exactly where you had needed to be. There was Adrian, dressed in a loose-fitting white tunic that hung open at the neck to reveal a sliver of his defined pectorals, and whose sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. The tunic was tucked into tight black pants, that themselves tucked into black leather boots. He stood before an easel, palette in one hand, a brush in the other, and a warm smile on his face, "Ah, good morning, dearest. Did you sleep well?"

You nod with vigor, "Wonderfully! Thank you for putting me to bed," you finish with a giggle. He chuckles in response, "It was my pleasure, I'm just glad to see you well rested and well fed. Please pardon my current distraction, after breakfast I fully intend to resume our lessons," he finished as he noticed you eyeing his easel. You perked at his aside, "Oh no it's quite alright, I was just curious is all. What are you painting?"

He stepped back from the easel and gestured towards it, "Would you like to see?"

You approached the easel eagerly, and its contents did not disappoint. A beautiful rendition of the view from the study's window was what greeted your gaze, nearly complete. You gasped in delight, "Simply gorgeous!" you exclaimed, "I had no idea you were an artist, let alone such an incredibly talented one."

His smile was genuine and full of pride, "Thank you. My father taught me the arts, how to draw, paint, and sculpt. My mother taught me basic sewing, both for homemaking and for medical emergencies. And when you live alone, well… you have plenty of time to hone your skills, and I've certainly had quite a bit of time."

You found yourself at a loss, not sure how to respond to that evident melancholy. You were intrigued though at how well-rounded Adrian's academic upbringing had been. His parents sounded more and more fascinating with each new scrap of story. You wanted to know more, but you were afraid to ask, Adrian definitely reacted strangely when prompted to talk about his parents, especially his father. A lost bit of memory suddenly resurfaced at the thought, when John and Eric had arrived they had remarked that Adrian had become Dracula, at first with negative connotation, and then with positive, and both were in regards to you. What had all of that meant?

But there was no more time to follow that train of thought when you realized Adrian was staring intently at you, regarding you with confusion, "Is everything alright, dearest? Have I said something to upset you?"

"No!" you quickly exclaim, throwing your hands up defensively, "I was just… lost in the beauty of your artwork! I wonder, with you being so talented, your parents must have been doubly so!"

He isn't convinced, you can tell by his smirk, but he indulges you, lifting his arm to gesture towards a large painting hanging over the desk, "You can decide for yourself. He painted that portrait of my mother." The portrait in question was of a beautiful blonde haired woman with pale skin, aquamarine eyes, and a sweetheart face. She was wearing a plum colored dress with a lavender trim, and holding a bouquet of lilies. Her face was unmistakably reminiscent of Adrian's, her beauty breathtaking, much like him. It was no wonder Dracula had fallen in love with her. Your eyes were again drawn to her dress, and that's when you noticed a familiarity, you had seen that dress before, in fact…

You looked down at yourself, could it be?

As if reading your mind Adrian chuckled, finishing his earlier statement, this time gesturing at you, "and she made the dress you're wearing. It looks quite lovely on you, by the way."

You blush, both at the compliment and at the realization.

"My assumption was correct then," you respond, "they were, in fact, both extremely talented."

"They were," he agrees.

Tentatively you continue, "And your mother was quite beautiful. Gorgeous, in fact."

Again, he agrees, "She was."

You press on, emboldened by his responses, "You look incredibly like her, the resemblance is uncanny."

His eyes close, but he responds, "I do."

"I guess you didn't take after your father much, unless he too was fair-haired," you press your luck once more, hoping to learn something, anything, that would aid your mental picture.

When Adrian's eyes open he doesn't look at you, instead he looks towards the portrait of his mother. When he speaks his voice is full of dread, "I did not, no. and I intend to keep it that way."

As you had feared, another odd remark about his father. Why? What happened that made him feel this way? Throwing all caution to the wind you decide to ask, "Why is that?"

Adrian's eyes snap to you as if you had just threatened his life, his look is wild, upset.

He hesitates, eyes locked on yours, lips tightly pressed together, before he finally speaks, "He… My mother…"

Adrian stops, seeming to collect himself before trying again, "My mother was murdered."

You gasp, but before you can say anything he continues, "When my father learned of her fate, he went insane with grief."

Adrian's eyes closed, his expression pained. You had no words to say, so instead you rushed to him, closing the distance between you and embracing him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Now it was his turn to gasp, caught off guard by your sudden contact. Slowly his arms come up to encircle you, pulling you flush against his chest as he buried his face in your hair. Inhaling deeply, he let out a shuddering breath, _Would I do the same, if her fate should ever befall you?_

"I'm sorry," you whisper, now feeling incredibly guilty for pressing the matter, and heartbroken over the fate of his parents.

He shakes his head, "It was a long time ago."

But his assertion brings neither of you comfort, so instead you stay frozen in each other's arms for a while, both unknowingly ruminating over the same fear: losing the other.

With one final squeeze Adrian released you from his grip, stepping away but letting his hands linger on your arms.

You stare into the golden depths of his eyes, searching for words of comfort, but you're at a complete loss, so instead you opt to reach up and cup his face in your hands. Thumbs idly stroking his cheeks you continue to stare, hoping your desire to comfort him seeps through your skin and into his. He seems to understand, taking your hands away from his face and instead clasping them around his neck. His own hands find their way to your hips, and he pulls you in close, your pelvis flush against his. His eyes change, you watch them change, swirling from their usual light gold into a deep bronze, and you know exactly what that means.

You're ready. Is he?

Slowly, painfully slowly, Adrian leans in until his lips are a breath away from yours. He pauses, eying your eager lips which have already parted in anticipation, and smirks, "Even if I wanted to," he whispers, "even if I wanted to stay away from you, for your own safety, for your own good… I never could. I'm weak, I'm so weak for you. My heart yearns for you, for your touch, for your smile, for your wit and your intelligence." His eyes flick up to yours once more, and you see that hunger, that all-consuming hunger, swirling in his eyes. Absently you lick your lips, absolutely starving for him. He observes your gesture and a laugh escapes him, "I know I'm not alone in these feelings, but I'm not quite sure if that makes things better or worse."

You laugh now too, short and high, nervous, on edge, wanting only to claim those sultry lips, not interested in this teasing he seems to be taking so much pleasure in. You can't help but allow your eyes to wander back to those lips, observing how they smirk at you, idly wondering what expressions they'd produce if you performed… some very special favors on him.

Your body reacts to these thoughts, to this proximity, to this temptation, and Adrian seems to react as well. A growl escapes him, low in his throat but unmistakable, and finally he closes the gap between you, his lips harshly assaulting your own. The kiss is hungry, claiming, a consuming gesture that leaves you gasping for air at any moment you're able to surface. You don't care though, let him consume you, you want this, you want this consummation. Your arms tighten around his neck, keeping him close, bringing you flush together. He leans into you further, deepening the kiss, bending you backward until you feel you might break. You're careful of his fangs, you don't want another moment cut short out of his fear of harming you, especially not this moment. Sensing your inability to bend any further, Adrian's hands leave your hips and instead scoop up your thighs, lifting you up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. He begins to move, first pressing your back against the wall, leaning into you heavily, his own heightening arousal becoming increasingly evident. Then suddenly you leave the wall, and instead find yourself being walked out of the room entirely.

Every few paces down the hall he stops, pressing you against the wall to ravage you further, hands using the wall's leverage to release your legs and instead roam your body, caressing your bottom, massaging your breast. Your hands take the opportunity to card through his hair or drag your nails up his back.

After several hallway stops you enter another room. He lays you down on the bed, never releasing you, following you onto it, and continues his assault. His hands snake around behind your back and you feel the dress's laces being tugged loose. He slides the dress off of your shoulders, and you wriggle your arms out of the sleeves, baring your breasts to his ravenous eyes. He seems to catch himself for a moment, the sight bringing him clarity, and slowly he descends upon them, worshiping them with lips and tongue. You cradle his head in your arms, fingers entangled in his golden locks, as your own head thrashes at the intensity of the pleasure. Every time you moan, he replicates whatever gesture caused it. Your legs tighten around his waist, and it doesn't take long before you're both helplessly grinding against each other, seeking a release from these building feelings.

Releasing his head your hands quest lower, quickly gathering his shirt, pulling it from his pants and yanking it upwards. He halts his worship of your bossom momentarily to allow for the garment to be pulled over his head and discarded. You catch a glimpse of a very large, pronounced scar running across his chest, and it concerns you, but now is not the time for questions. You want more of his skin against yours. You begin to whine, writhing underneath him until his curiosity brings his gaze back to yours. He lifts himself up just enough so that you're able to slip your hands in between your bodies and you begin to hike up the dress's skirt. He immediately understands your goal and eagerly aids you, helping you remove the cumbersome garment. You're left in nothing but your modest undergarments, and Adrian takes the opportunity to admire the sight. His mouth finds yours once more, and as he kisses you he hooks nimble fingers into the waistband of the bottoms, carefully sliding them down your hips.

His hands come back up to your breasts, tweaking a nipple, causing you to gasp. You feel his smirk as his lips descend upon yours once more, but not for long, as he then proceeds to kiss a trail down your face, your neck, your chest. Pausing at your breasts once more, he licks and sucks until you realize your undergarments have been completely removed. Then his trail continues, down your stomach, until he's perched between your legs, hungrily eying your core. His arms are looped around your legs, slowly he plants a kiss inside your thigh, and you gasp when you realize what it is he has planned. With one swift tug he pulls your legs towards him, bringing your core to rest right beneath his nose, and begins to slowly run his tongue along your folds. Your arms flail, unsure of what to grab onto first, shocked by his actions. One palm clamps over your mouth, the other grabs a fist full of the bedsheets. You hear him chuckle, feel the rumble of it against your core, and this time removes one of the hands that had been holding your legs apart and instead spreads your lips, opening you up to him. You sit up on your elbows, eager to see what he's going to do, embarrassed by how exposed you lay before him, but before you can say anything that damnable tongue darts out and flicks your blood-engorged clitoris, and the entire world seems to go white. You fall back against the bed with a cry and instinctively your legs snap tight around him. So of course, he does it again. And again. And again. Until you're absolutely screaming. One hand gripping the sheets, the other pressed against your mouth in an effort to stifle yourself, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, Adrian is relentless. Your body starts to quiver, warmth pooling in your belly, you're so close, so close, you gasp, "Oh Adrian, I'm going to—I'm going to-!" When suddenly you feel two long, thin fingers enter you, and all they do is _curl_ and—

You cry out, abdomen lifting off the bed as your legs cling tightly around his shoulders.

As soon as the sensation begins to dissipate your legs loosen their death grip around him, dropping to lay on the bed. He crawls up your body and settles next to you, pulling you against him, lungs still heaving, and you feel it, you feel his arousal, hard and wanting.

It would be selfish of you to take and not give, right?

* * *

SURPRISE! More smut awaits! Will our characters go "all the way" next chapter? Who knows! Stay tuned to find out!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

SMUT WARNING! NSFW AHEAD!

I apologize for my prolonged absence once again, I have no excuses! Suddenly a month had passed, and I couldn't quite believe it! This certainly isn't one of my longer chapters, but I hope it's enough to entertain you in the meantime. I was pretty good for a chapter a week at one point, but I've lately proven that that is no longer the case, so instead I'm going to propose a bi-monthly schedule. I'd also like to propose a definitive end to this story, though I don't know quite when that will be yet, since that will surely take some setting up, so take comfort in the fact that that won't occur for quite some time yet. Anyway, thank you for your continued support, and I hope you continue to enjoy the tale of these whimsical lovers!

I own neither Castlevania nor its characters.

* * *

Tentatively you run your right hand down his right thigh and glance back at him. His face is calm, a warm smile on his lips, but his eyes are glowing bronze, and you see right through his veiled attempt at appearing to be sexually satisfied. You spin around in his arms so that you come face to face with this angelic beauty and once again run your now left hand down his right thigh, tracing circles and swirls as you go. You smile at him suggestively, and mustering all of your courage you bring your hand back up to his waist, this time letting your fingers drop to brush the engorged bulge in his pants. The touch is brief, light, but as soon as your fingertips reached their target Adrian's entire body tensed, his eyes going wide. His smile disappears and an audible gasp emits from his now parted lips.

He grabs your hand forcefully, but quickly getting control of himself he loosens his grip and instead brings your hand up to his lips, where he kisses your fingertips, "Darling, you must be exhausted after what I just did to you, please, rest." But you shake your head and your mischievous smile widens, and while his eyes are locked on yours, you sneak your right hand out from underneath you and cup the warm mass, "No Adrian, you deserve pleasure too, and I'm going to ensure you receive it."

His own free hand darts out in an attempt to grab your wrist, but once you begin to gently rub his erection he's suddenly rendered powerless. His right hand continues to hold your left one to his lips, and as you continue your gentle massage his eyes close, and he takes one of your fingertips into his mouth, gently sucking and scraping his teeth against it as your ministrations continue.

You feel his erection pulsing beneath your palm, begging for release, and so you oblige it, taking your hand away briefly to undo the ties of his pants. The laces are finally loosened by your nervous fingers and his manhood freely bobs out. You immediately encircle it with a firm grip and Adrian groans, biting down hard on the side of your finger. His hips thrust towards you, begging you to continue.

Feeling emboldened by his responsiveness, you lurch forward, pushing Adrian's hips down flat against the bed with your left knee and plant yourself on top of him, your right hand never losing its grip. Adrian's eyes are hazy with lust, and even with your left hand no longer against his mouth all that manages to escape his lips is another groan.

You begin slowly stroking his incredible cock, finally able to admire it now that it's on full display for you. It's at least seven inches in length, and thick enough that your pointer finger and thumb don't touch when wrapped around it. Your eyes travel up his body, Adrian's arms lay strewn about him, one holding the side of his face, ready to cover his mouth, the other clutching the bed sheets. His expression is absolutely wanton, mouth slightly agape, breath heavy, bronze eyes lidded, golden hair splayed across the pillows. He is truly the most beautiful creature you have ever seen.

You continue to stroke his length from base to tip, trying to keep a steady rhythm, which becomes increasingly more difficult as Adrian begins to erratically thrust his hips upward in response to your actions, seeking what you can only imagine is imminent release. Which, upon further thought causes you to realize, what will you do once that happens? Do you just let it spray out on him? On yourself? And then a devious little idea pops into your head, shifting your hips backwards to slide yourself down his legs a little ways you lean forward, bringing yourself eye to eye with the tip of his cock.

Your tongue darts out, giving his tip an inquisitive lick. Adrian moans in response, spurring you to lick again, and again, until a dribble of precum wells up and spills out onto your vigorously stroking fingers.

This is it, you say to yourself, and with a smile you wrap your lips around his head, doing your best to relax your jaw and take more of him inside of you, all while still stroking.

"Oooh d-darling!" Adrian moans loudly, raising up on his elbows to better see what you've done to him, before dropping heavily back on to the bed. You begin to bob your head up and down in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and Adrian strains his hips as far forward as they'll go, seeking more of the moist warmth of your mouth.

"D-dearest I'm—I'm going to," he pauses at the last word, once again on his elbows now, pleading eyes seeking your own out. But you only smile to yourself and continue, bringing your free hand up to press against his chest in a gesture meant to push him back down against the bed. He doesn't budge though, and instead clutches your hand, his entire body going stiff as he lets out one final, broken groan, releasing his seed into your mouth.

The sensation catches you by surprise at first, but you keep your composure, letting your strokes come to a slow stop before releasing his member entirely and swallowing the salty deposit.

Adrian lets out a shaky breath, pulling you up to lay across his chest, "Darling, that was unnecessary of you, I was more than satisfied having satisfied you."

You glare up at him playfully, eyebrow cocked, "That's utter nonsense and you know it. How could I let you do all of that work, only to have to suppress your own wants? I'm not a monster."

"No," Adrian looks away, expression stoic, "you're certainly not a monster." When he meets your eyes again, his expression has softened, "You're the most fortunate thing to have ever happened to me. You're my own personal angel, my slice of redemption."

His heavy words leave you blushing, causing him to chuckle, "Do my words effect you so? I apologize dearest, I just cannot contain my appreciation for you. But I'll offer you some reprieve, we do still have lessons to get to, shall we save the pillow talk for this evening?" Now you're the one giggling, although mostly out of anticipation for whatever it is Adrian has in store for you later, "I am agreeable to this," you respond with a coy smile. Adrian returns it with one of his own, and then scoops you up into his arms with unnatural ease, lifting both of you from the bed and carrying you out of the room, "Then let us move with haste, I don't know about you but I am suddenly quite eager for time to pass swiftly."


End file.
